Dear Soldier
by starryeyedauthor
Summary: Bella, Alice, & Rosalie are all attending college in California. They meet Jasper, also going to college while working as a bartender. Emmett is in Construction & a Bouncer, living almost next to the girls, & Edward starts our story as a deployed soldier. Laughs, tears, triumphs, & grief, read as they navigate life & find solace in each other. Ensemble Story, Canon Pairings, AH
1. Chapter 1

Story.

BPOV

Mondays are the worst. Seriously, who thought it was a good idea to give us a day that we spend our whole life dreading? I know it isn't really the day's fault, but more what it represents i.e. the abrupt halt of the weekend's leisure and the return to the "real world". Well, screw the real world. And screw the people who decided that getting up at 6 am in the morning was acceptable!

Hello, I'm Bella Swan and I'm addicted to sleep. And we aren't talking an ongoing infatuation, taking me out on a couple dates and we'll kiss goodnight on the front porch type of a deal. No, we are talking hardcore, married for life, always satisfying, don't know what I'd do without him type of a deal. I sleep more than the average person, and I am only vaguely apologetic about it.

Anyway! I detest Mondays because those days signal the beginning of my school week. I know, I know, I was complaining about the "real world" and it can be successfully argued that college life isn't the "real world" (hey, there really is no rebuttal to the argument about being able to do an entire semester online and not leave our apartment if we don't want to). However, it is the precursor to that "real world" that gives me the heebie-jeebies. I mean, high school for me was pretty awesome and college is a blast…it can only go downhill from here, right?

After my five minute internal debate about how much I don't want to get up, and then the brief flash of pleasure at my rebellious "well, I just won't" thought process, the inevitable occurred and I dragged myself out of my warm, comfy cocoon of beautifully blue-green, 500 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets on my wonderful queen sized bed…damn. While my practical side was distracted with adjectives, my lazy ass had jumped right back in.

…Take #2…

After finally convincing myself that there would be dire consequences stemming from staying in bed forever, I went through the morning's boring routine. I'd describe it to you, but as there are only so many flowery adjectives to describe brushing one's teeth (like "the smooth glide of the firm bristles over my teeth, coupled with the subtle, comforting massaging of my gums to produce that squeaky, clean, minty feeling one gets after you've successfully brushed your teeth" and there really is no pretty way of saying you used the toilet…I mean really. *eye roll*). I did take a little while longer than usual in the bathroom, though. I grew up a tomboy and firmly believe in the less is better ideal with make-up.

However, it was the first day of school, so I felt I should at least put in some effort. I studied myself critically in the mirror for a moment before getting to work. I hardly ever wore concealor, not because my face was perfect but because it just bothered me, so my lightly tanned skin was left alone. I have a circular face with wide, somewhat almond shaped eyes that are ringed in green with brown centers. I applied a bit of eye shadow and some mascara before moving on. My nose has always been described as "cute as a button", which actually annoys after awhile, and is somewhat petite with a slight upturn. Nothing much I can do about that, so I moved onto my lips. Now, my lips are one of my few vanities as they are in the classic cupid's bow shape and full, though my bottom is more so than my upper lip. I was blessed in that they are usually a pinkish color, so I swiped some cherry chapstick over them. Lastly, I concentrated on my hair. I have quite the love hate relationship with it, as it is wavy and therefore never stays where I want it. On the other hand, it is a rich, thick dark brown that looks glossy in the sunlight so I really shouldn't complain. I had gone through the 45 mins worth of trouble to straighten it last night and banish the wave, so I did a few touch ups with the straightening iron and called it good.

After yelling my goodbye to Rose and Alice on my way out the door, because SOME PEOPLE have class schedules that starts in the afternoon…*grumble grumble grumble*… sorry I'm back! After saying goodbye, I began what I was sure to become my customary dash to the bus around the corner. Now, as you may've surmised, I'm not a morning person. But, I will admit there is something about walking in the early morning, breathing in that cold, fresh morning air and listening to the birds chirp…or not. More like listening to "Let the Bodies Hit the Floor". I don't know about you, but personally I've found there is a correlation with my moods and music. As I wake up in a vengeful mood most morning, I find that listening to hard rock helps cure me of my need to do despicable things…like take the last of the milk in the fridge to tick off Rose or make small children cry with my crankiness (joking! …kind of).

Despite my taste in music, the beauty of the morning was not lost on me. There is something almost magical about it, with its predawn stillness and the feeling of possibilities that rises with the sun. The satisfying sound of stepping on crunchy, brown leaves and watching the wind set the trees to gently swaying against the backdrop of a sky filled with fluffy white clouds. So beautiful, so easily taken for granted, so making me late! I picked up may pace to match the thrumming bass and guitar riffs murmuring through my headphones. As I rounded the corner, I was treated to the vision of my bus pulling away. I didn't even bother running after it. It was easily a 5 minute mad dash across a busy street and I'd never make it. I cringed, dreading what I knew was going to come next. I turned around and booked it back to my apartment.

Cautiously, I peeled back the dark blue covers that were hiding my sister. Slowly I revealed the long, shiny, gorgeous dirty blond hair that framed her oval face. Rose has an intriguing face that manages to be both arresting and lovely simultaneously, with a strong jaw that counteracts her somewhat narrow, oval face and her lips, while not full, were pleasantly curved and helped soften her face. Her porcelain skin seemed to glow with vitality in the early morning light and I was loathe to wake her; I knew the serene expression for the mask it was. I took a deep breath and whispered ,"Rose". Nothing. I tried again, this time with a little shake "RO-ose" and again got no response. I SO did not have time for this! I abandoned all pretence of niceties and shook her shoulder firmly while yelling "ROOOSSSSEEE…." *punch* *punch*

Yes, my older sister, one of my heroes, socked me. In the shoulder. Twice. And damn if she hadn't been practicing her moves with her tank of a boyfriend again because GOD that hurt! I was reduced to whimpering for awhile, rubbing my injured shoulder after which the demon that vaguely resembled my sister pierced me with a sleepy stare, her blue eyes that fluctuate from a royal blue to the steely grey they were currently alerting me to just how annoyed I'd made her. She demanded to know why I'd woken her and after I mumbled out what happened with my bus, she heaved a long suffering sigh. "So, now that you've missed your bus you're expecting to take the car." "Well," I replied with an apologetic tone, "it would definitely be useful in the quest to get me to school for my first day!" Yeah, she wasn't buying the false cheeriness I was selling. After a grumble and an eye roll she gave me a weird hand motion and rolled over. So…I took that as a yes and stole the car keys on my way out the door again.

Yes, my older sister and I share a car and yes, we live together along with our best friend Alice in a small yet cozy 3 bedroom apartment on the upper side of State street in Santa Barbara, California. It is a gorgeous city, nestled between mountains and the ocean where seasons hold minimal sway and we enjoy sunshine about 335 days out of the year. I attend the local community college, Santa Barbara City College, in my quest for my nursing degree while Rose was accepted to University of California Santa Barbara (UCSB for short) and is working on her Bachelors in Political Science with a minor in History…*bleck*. But, whatever works for her! Alice, our shared best friend and sister of the heart since elementary school, also got accepted to UCSB and was working toward her major in Journalism. The three of us had been beyond excited when it worked out that we'd be living together as we'd always talked about it growing up. As cliché as it sounded, we were our own little group of The Three Musketeers. We just moved to SB about a month ago and it was a tough adjustment, as we arrived during their almost obnoxiously hot summers. Since our apartment wasn't spiffy enough for AC (read that as "wasn't expensive enough"), we had to deal with fans strategically placed to magnify whatever minute breeze wandered in through our wide-open windows. Let me tell you, there were entire days where we were in our swimsuits and taking turns having cold baths in the tub. But all in all, it is a wonderful place so far and we are enjoying ourselves.

After making it to school and finding out that my school is inadequately equipped with parking spaces, I rushed to class…and found my nemesis. At every school there is going to be some kind of problem. The grass is horrible, there is a funky smell, there is always construction, etc. I found out what my problem was going to be immediately; the hill. From the parking lot, there is a deceptive looking hill that you have to trek up to get to class. Now, I am not fat (and I will hit anyone who says otherwise), but I am out of shape not a huge fan of exercise to begin with. This hill flat out kicked my butt. I was a bit sweaty and panting when I reached the top and I don't know about you, but that's just not my most attractive look! To make matters worse, I was late to class. Now, there are a couple kinds of late: a smidge late which is a couple minutes, a tad late which spans anywhere from five to ten minutes, and late which is 10 minutes and beyond. I was beyond late. By the time I found my classroom, I was a whopping 25 minutes late to an hour long class. Yeah, I know, so not my day. Now, I am a shy person by nature. I try not to act like it, but I extremely dislike being the center of attention, especially by a bunch of people I don't know and my teacher who are all going to judge me for being late. So…I called Rose. Yes, I know, kind of pathetic.

"Yes!" Oh boy, I thought, she isn't in any better of a mood. "Hi Rosey, it's me." Now, I am one of only a few privileged few allowed to call her that, so I use it as frequently as possible. There was a slight pause and then I heard our hereditary sarcasm kick in. "Yes Jelly Belly, I know it's you. They have this nifty new invention called caller ID on the phone that alerts me to who I'm talking with BEFORE I actually pick up the phone and talk to them! Crazy, I know, but so helpful dontcha think?" Oy vey. She used the nickname that she knows annoys me. Why on Earth would my parents name me Bella, when it is one of the easiest names to make fun of? Anyway, I decided to ignore her rhetorical question and instead filled her in on my situation and asked her what she would do. She busted out laughing at me. This is who I look up to, folks, and she is all but peeing her pants on the phone. "You're *snicker*hiding around the corner *snicker* from the door to your class and you aren't even going to go in! *full on laugh* Are you serious!" … I dead-panned my response, "Why yes, Rose, I'm kidding. I just stepped out of class to come up with a story to make you laugh to have a wonderful start to your day. It isn't like I am seriously contemplating not going to my class. At all." At which point she lost it and started full on belly-laughing. Great. Because that is super helpful to me. Thank God, Alice heard Rose dying in her room and wandered in. She assessed the situation and calmly took the phone from Rose's loose grasp. "Hey traveling buddy (inside joke/looonnnngg story, just go with it please), what's shakin' bacon?" Yes, we are super mature and rhyme things. 'No prob, bob' is frequently used in our household as well, just a heads up. For the second time I explained my situation and to her credit, Alice only giggled a little bit. Then she pointed out how stupid I must look and that I'm only making myself later by talking to them instead of getting my butt to class. "But!", I whined, "They are all going to look at me and I'm going to look rude and stupid!" She snickered a bit, and then departed this bit of wisdom, "Any stupider then you look right now hiding in a hallway?" …damn. I hate when the older girls are right. Rose had sufficiently calmed down enough to bellow in the background, "Just get into your class already!" "Ugh. Fine. Whatever. I hate you guys. Bye." *click*

As I'd anticipated, walking into a class 30 mins late was frowned upon. Walking into a class that has enough students to take up the Forum classroom? Major League Embarassing. To heighten my feeling of awkwardness, I had to climb over a couple people as it was theater seating and the only available seats were scattered in the middle. Did I mention that while I was doing my best to find a seat and disappear as quickly as possible, the teacher found it necessary to launch into his lecture about how tardiness was unacceptable and rude, to both him and my fellow students? No? Well, welcome to the joys of being me! After that, majority of the day passed quickly thank God. I found out that I did have one friend in one of my classes. Her name was Angela and she was in my Speech class. We'd met during orientation a month ago and had exchanged numbers. We'd hung out a bit, and surprisingly, we really clicked. We both had military backgrounds and got along really well. She was as outspoken and in your face as I was timid. She was "fun sized" as she called herself at about 5' 4", but compared to my 5'11", most people are significantly shorter. She is curvy and unapologetic about it, with a force of personality that hints at her having gone through a lot to end up knowing exactly who she is. Both of us don't normally "click" with people, but we met and got along famously. She helped me laugh at myself when I told her about my morning and after talking with her, both during class and after, I was in a much better mood as I drove home.

I walked into an empty apartment, since both Rose and Alice had classes that went from the afternoon to the evening. A quirk of mine, one of many, is that I dislike silence so the first thing I did was turn on music on my way to my room to drop my stuff off. After that, I wandered into the kitchen and wondered what I was going to eat. Now, I love to bake and I'm an alright cook, but I'm a lazy cook so if I don't have to cook, all the better. I remembered that we might still have a slice or two of pizza left from our 1st Annual Girl's Night to Say Goodbye to Summer. Yes, my sisters and I make up random reasons to have fun. There was already talk of Tequila Tuesdays, Footies Friday (where we have a sleep over in the living room complete with Ben and Jerry's and footie pajamas we found in sears; mine have duckies on them), Siesta Sundays, etc. Anyway, I opened the fridge intent on unearthing that last piece of pizza and found a saran wrapped plate with a note on it. I pulled it out and read: "Hey sweetheart, I'm sorry you had a rough start this morning and hope your day got better. Rose didn't really mean it, just ignore her. I made dinner early since I figured none of us will want to cook after we get home from school. I love you very much Bell, and I'll see you soon! ~Ali". Did I mention how much I love that girl! She is the best. She balances Rose and I out and her innate goodness helps me try to be a better person. While I began scarfing down the fabulous fajitas she made, I settled down on the couch to wait for my girls. I channel surfed on the TV for awhile and stumbled upon a new show called Army Wives. This intrigued me, as La (my nickname for Angela) and I had talked about it earlier today and she'd given it her highest recommendation. I settled in for a bit and watched the hour long premiere. It wasn't immediately griping, but it intrigued me and by the end I knew I was going to have to keep up with it.

After that, nothing really grabbed my attention, so I turned off the TV. While I was still thinking about the show and all our deployed soldiers, a song came to mind called "Letters from Home". I had been humming along to it while I'd changed from my day's clothes into my comfy yoga's and old high school t-shirt. The tv show had made me think about how hard it would be to be away from home in a strange place, missing all those you know and love at home. I grabbed my laptop and Googled "military pen-pal' , and after searching a couple sites, found one called Soldier's Angels. After reading all of their rules and guidelines, I started reading the personal stories; that sealed it for me. I read one about a young man who was adopted by a family, and they helped him through his deployment with their letters and packages. I signed up and anxiously awaited the email that would give me my military pen pal. Ten minutes later, as I heard the happy chatter of the girls as they opened the door and came in, I clicked on the new email in my inbox.

"Dear Bella,

Thank you for joining Soldier's Angels! We appreciate your commitment and thank you for your donation. Your soldier will depend on you to write him, so please remember your commitment to writing him a letter at least once a week, though we encourage you to shoot for more than that (and emails don't count as actual letters, we want them to have something for Mail Call). Also, you've committed to sending a Care-Package once a month, and you can visit our store for pre-made packages or visit our site for ideas on his to customize the package for your soldier. Please remember that, if at any time and for whatever reason, you don't think you will be able to fulfill your commitment please contact us so we can reassign your soldier. Best wishes!

**Your Soldier: Specialist James Smith**

Oh boy. This had seemed like such a good idea…what had I gotten myself into?


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Hello! Welp, this is Chapter 2. Apologize for the abrupt-ish cliffie in the first chapter…wish I could say this chapter didn't follow in that fine tradition, but it sort of turned out that way. Next chapter will be more conclusive, promise! Shout out to my wonderful beta and friend, Dsmrm2023 for looking this over and for positive encouragement (the height thing will be corrected…eventually…I think) Anyway, read on!

BPOV

I wanted a bit of time to think over what I was going to write and how I was going to try to contact my new soldier friend. I decided not to tell the girls right away, to give me time to process it before they gave their input. With that in mind, I greeted the girls and asked about their days. We chatted about school, sharing info about our classes and teachers for an hour or two. Rose did an imitation of a professor of hers who had a rather unfortunate looking shuffle-walk, which she already had down perfectly, that had us giggling. As always, I chimed in with my signature comment, "Now Rose, that's unkind…" to which she told me that he then had spent the next 45 minutes of class time trying to look down her shirt. To which each of us gave a loud, "EW!" and I promptly dismissed any bad feelings about making fun of him.

We dubbed him The Pervy Penguin, and then had a competition to see if either Alice or I had any teachers that could match him in the creepy category. Alice's contribution was a teacher who possessed dreadlocks and sported a smile with bright orange lipstick smudged on her front teeth. We discussed it for a few minutes, but then agreed that having a pervy teacher was definitely worse than teachers with questionable taste and lipstick teeth. My contribution was my one amusing teacher. He was a nice enough guy seemingly, and I was excited for his class, but he wore this Hawaiian shirt. Now, normally this is nothing to snigger at, each person has their own taste and blah-de-blah-de-blah. However, this man possessed some ferocious chest hair. I sat in the back of the class and could still perfectly see the differentiating salt and pepper strands that tumbled profusely out of the 'v' exposed by having the top button of the shirt undone. It clashed with his blue shirt and obscured at least one whole yellow flower on each side of the 'v'…that is how long they were.

We were past giggles and into full on snickering by this point. Alice mischievously looked at Rose and I, once we'd regained the breath that laughter had stolen, and said the oddest thing; simple words in a sentence that should never be uttered, especially not in a dead-pan tone from Ali's pixie face while her eyes were sparkling with mischief. Prepare yourselves, as once this is said you won't be able to help but visualize it. She said, "Picture this: Pervy Penguin Man with massive, matted dreadlocks and offensively bright orange smeared lipstick and a profusion of chest hair trying to escape from beneath his shirt." …AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Did YOU see him? I literally felt like I was dying I was laughing so hard. All of us started howling until tears ran down our faces. I couldn't tell you what was so funny about it, but it was just one of those things.

In my particular vision of Pervy Penguin Man, I thought of The Penguin from the 1997 Batman and Robin movie, you know the one with Michael Keaton? I'd had an ex boyfriend give me all the Batman movies on DVD, so as soon as I shared my thought, we all decided to watch that movie in honor of The Pervy Penguin. The girls finished changing into jammies, while I popped up some Kettle Corn (BEST. POPCORN. EVER!) and we started the DVD. The minute Mr. Penguin made his appearance; we lost it all over again. We spent the rest of the night doing one-liners in Danny De Vito's accent from the movie. We decided to add The Pervy Penguin to our manifesto. When we were little, we had decided to write down all of our secret jokes, catch phrases, etc. so we would never forget them. We pulled out the Manifesto, which still carried a few of the large quantity of stickers we had stuck on it in our childish exuberance. After going through and reading/remember our favorite one-liners and the stories behind them, we had Alice (because she has the best handwriting) write in "#81. Mr. Pervy Penguin". As sentimental as it sounds, I swear we can make even everyday life into memorable times.

As I was lucky enough to not have school the next day (oh the joys of a college schedule!), I decided I would call up Angela and see what she was up to. I wanted to talk to someone about signing up for the "My Soldier Campaign" (as I'd started to refer to it in my head), and since Rose and Alice were in school for the next couple hours I figured I'd talk to La about it. With that in mind, I hopped in the car and headed over to her place. I knocked on her pretty greenish-blue door in a cheerful staccato beat…only to get no noticeable response. I waited a couple heartbeats, and then tried again a bit louder. "mmmmMMMMMMMmmmmm…!" I heard. Yeah, I had no idea what that muffled sound meant either. So, being my usual annoying self, I continued my staccato knock that was more of a pound now. I had just lifted my fist from the door when it swung open…and I was greeted with the sight of a wild haired, not really awake cutie that was glowering up at me through her eyes that were squinting in the weak sunlight.

La's POV

What. The. Hell! I couldn't reconcile the odd knocking sound with my peaceful dream. There is shouldn't be any pounding beats here, only the calm of sitting on Butterfly Beach. I often come here to think and have since childhood. Even as that thought flitted through my mind, a slideshow of pictures started like an oldies reel. My mother taking me here and a young me crafting sandcastles, coming here with my boyfriend and sneaking a make-out session under the cover of twilight; happy memories full of promise and the shine of youth. Then there also were the hard times, woven through those happy moments. Coming here with sadness in my heart and tears that clogged up my throat but refused to fall after yet another family tragedy, sitting alone and sifting sand through my fingers while thinking about my current break up. I go to the beach because you find solace there, especially at night when there aren't many people around. You look up at the stars and listen to the crash and roar of the waves and you can't help but feel small. It helps you realize that, like the stars and the ocean your life will continue and the ability to think in the solitude with the comforting melody of the ocean… *KNOCK KNOCK Knock-na-na-Knock-Knock KNOCK KNOCK!* Ughhhh. Really? I'd honestly thought if I'd ignored that strange noise, it'd go away. But I felt my dream receding and reality coming into focus as I opened my eyes to check the time: 10 o'clock.

The pounding started again and I yelled out the requisite, "I'm coming, I'm COMING!" which seemed to pacify the obviously satanic person who had decided I'd needed to be up. I shuffled through my house thinking, "If it's those damn Girl Scouts again, I will personally promise to beat the ever living crap out of them if they come here anytime before 4 pm…and then send them on their way after I buy 2 boxes of Thin Mints, a box of Peanut Patties, and some shortbread." What? I have a weakness, and y'all would just be lying to yourselves if you didn't agree that Girl Scout cookies are 'magically delicious' and 'Mmm, mmm good!' all rolled up a couple cylindrical cellophane packages. By the time I'd reached the door, the thought of cookies on the other side had pacified me a bit, so that I didn't open the door and immediately start yelling; which is probably a good thing. I swung the door open to reveal Bell. Yes, I know her name is Bella but I call her Bell, B, Estrella…whatever I feel like. Anyway, I see her hopeful face looking down at me and I can't help but sigh. I love this girl, I do, but damn if she is going to let me go back to sleep after this; I know that look. I try anyway, leaving the door open and stumbling back to my bed before crawling into its cotton-y goodness. As predicted, after she shuts the front door she follows me and climbs into bed next to me. She is silent for a full 5 minutes and I'm starting to doubt my first impression that she isn't going to let me sleep as I slide closer to that promising REM cycle…until she pokes me in the butt. Yes. My butt. Now, I have a large posterior and there is no way around that but *no pun intended*, I love my butt. And having it poked while I'm trying to sleep is just not ok. I sighed and rolled over with a muttered and half-hearted, "You bitch." At which point B smiles at me and pulls out a white bakery bag and a disposable coffee cup. Now, I refuse to be ruled by my stomach. This hooker had rolled up to mi casa without bothering to call and was demanding my attention. I would stay strong. She couldn't sway me. My will and mind, once made up, are like iron…and then I caught that sweet unmistakable scent as she teasingly swung the bag around so I could read the label: Spudnuts. Just like that, with my stomach rumbling loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear, she was forgiven. We both knew it, but at least she didn't gloat. She just handed over the caffeine and the old-fashioned chocolate on chocolate with sprinkles doughnut, and I confess, I squealed like a kindergartener. Don't judge me! Those things are like crack or Pringles, once you pop you just can't stop! So good with its yummy, sweet, sugary goodness and the coffee acting as the perfect counterpoint with its rich, inviting smell of deliciousness and…I wasn't listening to a word Bella said. I knew how this worked. I'd accepted her bribe, so now I had to listen. I tuned in.

"…and I don't know what exactly I was thinking, but I just had this urge to do it and kind of throw caution to the winds for a good cause, ya know? I mean, how could I not when they only have a little and my donation would mean the world to them.."

Oh brother. She'd done it again. Bella was like the opposite of me. She possessed this endearing naiveté that drew people to her, or in simpler terms, she was a bleeding heart. She gave money to the homeless people on the corners despite my caution that they'd probably use it to buy booze or drugs, gave money regularly to the ASPCA as well as volunteering there, and she couldn't watch those commercials about helping disadvantaged children over in Asia without tearing up. So, my first thought was that she'd gone and adopted one of those children for like 15 bucks a month.

"Well, B, that's really good of you. Why are you coming to me with your problem face on? This is good news. You're helping someone out less fortunate, giving them a better chance at life, and your 15 dollars can keep them supplied in diapers for the upcoming year or so!" I stated. She looked at me, with her eyes widening slightly, and let out a guffaw. "Diapers…for a year…less fortunate…*snicker* *snicker* Ahaha! You weren't listening to a word I said were you?" she asked me. I opened my mouth to reply when she cut me off with "I should've known when your eyes glazed over at the smell of the doughnut that I should wait for you to surface again before talking to you." I laughed a bit, but conceded that she had a point. "So, what were you talking about?" I asked. "The My Soldier Campaign that I started," she said. When I continued to look at her blankly, she filled me in about watching Army Wives (during which we went on an hour side tangent involving which male lead was the cutest and the plot lines) and getting the urge to sign up to be a soldier's pen-pal. See! Told you. Bleeding-freaking-heart, that one. I also have a soft spot for causes and what not, but unlike Bella I was a bit more in touch with the realities of the world and applied that street-wise common sense to my decisions; B just flew on emotion tempered by whatever logic happened to come to mind. *Sigh* Gotta love her, but really! Randomly signing up for this? I knew then why she'd come to me with her uncertainties about this. My best friend/fiancé/boyfriend/love of my life, Ben, had signed up for the Army in the months following the Sept. 11th attacks on New York and the Pentagon. When we'd met and I'd figured out she had a military background, I shared my own military involvement; i.e. being the one left at home to support my man through his 3rd deployment overseas. It has been one of the main things that has gotten us so close in a matter of weeks, which is miraculous as neither of us click well with other girls; their drama issues and whatnot pose problems for us friendship-wise. But because she knew where I was coming from, I could share stuff about Ben and she actually got it. She didn't judge or tell me I was wrong to give him more leeway than most. She didn't baby me, because we both know I can handle the truth straight up, but unlike my other girlfriends who just compared my relationship issues with theirs, and seemed to always find my relationship lacking, Bella gave credence to the differences in a military relationship; she got it, she didn't judge and I loved her for it. Once again, I took stock of the situation. She seemed…withdrawn today. Even now, she was staring off into space while I was thinking, which told me what she needed today. "Well," I said, "I'm not doing anything today. How about we do a relaxing lounge day and we'll talk more after you get used to the idea a bit more?" She shot me a grateful look and I couldn't help but feel a little maternal and protective. She and I were so similar, and it was easy for me to pick up on the signs that she still needed to think a bit before she was ready to talk but was facing the difficulty of not wanting to be alone…she wanted to put the problem aside for a bit and come back to it. So that is what we'd do. I climbed out of bed and we both snagged a couch in my living room. Sooo comfortable. My couches are the perfect thing when you need comfort. They are just broken in enough that you sink in, but still have that support to provide the feeling of security you get when you fall into your own bed. After a debate, we ended up deciding on a harry potter marathon and I slipped the first DVD in and got comfortable.

BPOV

Hours later, I was still sitting on La's couch, avoiding. We'd ordered pizza for lunch and had been almost comatose all day, which had been relaxing but also gave me the time I needed to think; I swear, sometimes she gets me better than I get myself. I had come to the conclusion that I was just over-reacting. I'd signed up to be a pen-pal and I'd be a damn good one! To the best of my abilities anyway. After the credits came up for Harry Potter 3, I sat up and stretched, then started to gather my things to go home. La and I had a routine, and so as I gathered my wallet, cell phone, and Chapstick, she slipped on her Uggs, grabbed her sunglasses, and we both went outside to the street that ran by her apartment complex. She lit her cigarette, *eww*, and she asked me what I'd come to decision-wise. I told her and she concurred, stressing that there was no point in me worrying. I responded with the thought that this wasn't like a school project that I could just stop when I lost interest, that it'd be a man stuck in a miserable place in miserable conditions, that would be depending on me to help ground them and give them a link to normalcy and home. She took a drag from her cigarette, held it a moment, and then blew out the acrid smelling smoke that somehow always seemed to find its way into my face no matter which direction she blew it out. She acknowledged my fears and promised to be there with me while I tried to figure all this out. Stupid sounding, I know, but I just HATE disappointing people, and this was important to me. She gave me a hug and I thanked her for the afternoon and for knowing that I just needed some silent company, to which she replied, "Of course, darlin, any time!" and threw me a wink as she smacked my bum and sent me on my way. Yes…I seem to be the queen of odd, quirky relationships, but hell! They sure are fun!

When I got back home, I threw a pot roast and some potatoes in the crock pot so I wouldn't have to worry about dinner and there would be food for when Ali and Rose got home. Determined, I started up my computer and logged into my email. I found the email again from Soldier's Angels and copied down the address they gave on an envelope. Then, I got out a pen and some paper…and drew a blank. How exactly does one go about addressing someone they don't know? I'm sure this is a question that is often brought up in online dating situations. Do you say they the generic, "Hi!" or "Hey!", maybe throw in a "How you doin? *wink* *wink*" just to spice it up? That is all well and dandy, but I'm not only addressing someone I don't know, but I'm addressing my ASSIGNED someone I don't know! They could be my age, older, younger, have a family, be single…there really was no protocol that was coming to mind on how to proceed, so I just went with simplicity.

"Dear Soldier…

I hope this finds you well, er, as well as can be given that you are deployed. Speaking of which, where are you deployed, if you don't mind me asking? There is a lot of military jargon attached to your address that I really don't understand; apologies, but even growing up with a bit of a military background myself hasn't given me much experience with deployments. I was told that you may or may not write back, and not to burden you with expectations but I truly hope you will write back! I would love to learn more about you and try to be your friend, if I could. They didn't give me your age, but I did Google your rank. NOT that rank is important to me, please don't mistake my meaning! I was just curious if researching your rank would tell me what branch of the service you are in and I was right! I'm must confess myself curious as to why you chose to enlist in the Army? Again, please don't feel like you have to answer any specific question, I just find that I'm curious about you in general.

Speaking of curiosity, I just realized that I haven't even introduced myself yet! I'm so sorry, let me try again. Hello, my name is Bella, well technically it is Isabella but I prefer Bella. I'm 21 years old and I am a Nursing student in college. My dream is to be an RN and to, as corny as it sounds, make a difference by positively impacting people's lives. Such a funny phrase, 'positively impacting, as if the violence suggested by the word impact is counteracted by the juxtaposition of the word positive to portray a happy intervention. Sorry! I'm also an English minor, and I tend to go off on random quirky tangents at times. I find that my writing follows my train of thought and I am rather easily distracted. Anyway some background on me! I grew up with my older sister Rosalie, or Rose for short, with our parents Renee and Charlie until I was 8. After that our parents divorced, and while it was a painful separation they parted as amicably as they could. They were fantastic at presenting a united front for my sister and me, so while it was a blow it didn't leave us scarred for life or anything. For a couple years we were a bit nomadic with our mom, which was such fun because we were constantly having adventures with just the three of us, but Rose and I grew tired of the upheaval of moving every 6 months or so, so we moved back in with our dad Charlie. I know I mentioned a military upbringing earlier, and that is because Charlie is, well was, in the Air Force. He now is a retired Colonel, and has become the Sheriff of our small hometown, Forks.

I currently live with Rose, who is also attending college, and our best friend Alice. We grew up with her and her twin brother in Forks, minus the period where we were with our mother, and they are like siblings to us…or I should say they are like siblings to me, as Rose is dating Alice's brother Emmett. He actually found work down here so he'll be moving down soon and we're excited to see him! Oh, I feel like I should also mention the Cullen's (that's Alice and Emmett) older brother, Edward. Their parents adopted him while my sister and I were staying with our mother so we don't know him all that well, but the couple times we've seen him, he's turned out to be a funny, decent sort albeit rather quiet. Despite the difference in our relationship with Edward, my family and the Cullens are very tight knit, but we are looking forward to meeting new people in our new surroundings. And…I'm going into a ton of detail on something you might or might not even care to know about. Apologies! I just feel like, if situations were reversed, I'd feel more comfortable sharing personal information if it was a mutual thing. I hope I haven't made you uncomfortable! Maybe I should cross it out…you know what, if it makes you uncomfortable, please say so and I'll refrain from in depth sharing in any further communication, ok? I'm here for you, so we can talk about whatever you want. Also, could you send me ideas on what to include in your first care package? I want to make sure you get some goodies as well as day to day necessities. Well, that's all for now, but I hope to hear from you soon and I'm sending well wishes for your safety along with this letter!

Sincerely,

Bella Swan

Your Soldier's Angel Friend

P.S. I decided to write you a letter in purple as I assume you could use a dash of color to brighten your day! =)

P.S.S. Not to be a bother, but again I would really appreciate it if you wrote back. Not that I wish to bother you or put you out or anything…only if you want to. Ok. Shutting up now. Bye!"

After folding the letter precisely in threes, I push it into its envelope, and then sealed it. After placing the stamp in its designated place, I walked down to my apartment's communal postal box and slid the envelope into the slot marked "outgoing mail", and listened until I heard the soft thump that announced it had indeed fallen into the metal receptacle. Now all there was left to do was wait. How long could it really take?

*A month and a half later*

I was bitter. Yes, bitter. I was compiling a care package for a military man that I didn't even know, who hadn't responded to my letter, and I didn't know if he ever would. So I'd had to guess on what he'd like me to send him and I'll admit to being a bit sore about it. I'd imagined a scenario in which letters would fly back and forth and we'd hopefully develop a friendship-type rapport. I could be another person who cared about his well-being and he could offer me personal glimpses into the life of someone deployed. That was not how this was going. Ali and Rose were helping me place all the item's I'd gathered into my flat rate shipping box. Packets of condiments, tons of hot sauce to flavor their bland MREs (Meals Ready to Eat), nuts/trail mix to snack on, some candy, some notebooks and pens, coffee packets from Starbucks (which were actually rather expensive, so he sure as heck better enjoy them), some baby wipes, hand sanitizers…the list went on and on. I'd gone shopping with La and she'd help me pick out things based on what Ben and his mate's asked her to send. We got everything in, along with a note saying to Enjoy, and just giveaway or share whatever he didn't want or use. We used probably way too much packing tape, but I didn't want items flying out because the tape malfunctioned in some way, and hell, the man has to have a knife with him so there shouldn't be any problem. Then we all climbed in the car and I dropped the package off to the post office on our way to the movie theater.

After the movie let out (it was rather disappointing, as we'd gone to see Bounty Hunter and I thought it was rather unimpressive and unexciting), we went out for a milkshake at one of our favorite milkshake places in Santa Barbara, Kahuna Grill. Seriously, their chocolate milkshakes are to DIE for. They use real chocolate shavings and it is just amazing; truly a religious experience for ice cream lovers. We drove home sucking down our chocolatey goodness and comparing opinions on the movies. I stopped by the mailbox on our way up to our apartment, more out of the daily habit I'd gotten into since sending my soldier's letter than any real hope that there'd be something for me, so I was pleasantly surprised when I got up to the apartment and turned on a light to find that one of the three letter was addressed to me. Normally we just get bills that are addressed to Rose or Alice, that is what the other two were, so I looked for some insignia or logo on the envelope to help clue me in; if it was another company telling me I could open up a credit card account or that I was entitled to free money I'd be really aggravated. Instead, there was just this cramped scrawl in the corner, but it was a bit smudge so I couldn't really make it out. My heart gave a bit of a leap though, as I realized the return address was rather long. I remembered addressing the letter to my soldier and marveling at the address length. I called the girls over and waited patiently as I explained what I thought it was. Always the excitable one, Alice jumped up in down in her enthusiasm and excited told me to hurry up and open it because she wanted to see. Her excitement fed into mine until I was grinning, but I looked to Rose for confirmation first. Ever since I'd told them about it, they'd reacted with varying levels of alarm, enthusiasm, and speculation. Alice was the most positive, and Rose was the logic as always. Rose gave me a little nod, and then said "Get on with it already, you're starting to make ME anxious!" I broke the seal on the envelope and upended it. A couple pieces of folded paper came out, along with some origami looking thing and some sand. The sand was the final confirmation and I was beaming with happiness as I unfolded the letter and started to read.

"Dear Angel…

A/N: So… whaddya think? I'm horrible at guessing what other people's responses will be, so if you would mosey on down to the review button, give a click and invest a moment to give me your thoughts it'd be beyond appreciated! *end groveling for reviews* again, the next one won't be a cliffie.

P.S. Soldier's Angels is a real organization that offers pen pal services to our people who are deployed all over the world. If you are looking for something positive to do, or just looking to make someone's deployment a little better please look them up! Also, if you are unable to give that much of a commitment there are a bunch of little ways you can still make a difference, like the Cup of Joe for A Joe Campaign (just type "cup of joe for a joe" into Google) which lets you donate anywhere from $2 up, and gets a soldier(s) a cup of coffee; that little bit of home to brighten your day. Also, you can attach little messages for their cups so you can send words of support and encouragement. A bonus is that if you send out your email, they sometimes write back! More info on the site. Bottom Line: We can agree to disagree on opinions about war and the deployment of our troops, but it doesn't change the fact that they are still out there, risking their lives regardless of your opinion.

P.S.S. Sorry, that was kind of heavy, but I'm a military brat so I feel strongly about it. Something to look forward to: Soldier-ward anyone? :D Yummy.


	3. Chapter 3

Hello all! Gosh, it feels pretty freaking cool to be able to say that and know that I actually have people following this story! Shout outs to you all, and a special shout out to my two reviewers, dsmrm2023 and cheermom13! All of you are the , but I wanted to say thank you for reviewing. I would love it if we could beat that review number with this chapter…*hint hint* *nudge nudge* :P Alright, enough subtly begging for reviews. Life has been a bit crazy for me, so I apologize for the delay. As promise, no cliffie and as I'm already working on the next chapter the next update shouldn't take so long.

As always, I'm indebted to my beta, dsmrm2023. Girl, ya keep me sane and thanks for helping me make James more true to the vision; also, for putting up with all my insecure questions. You're the best!

Enough stalling, on to the story!

"Dear Angel,

I hope ya don't mind me calling ya that, it's just less of a mouth full than "Dear Soldier's Angel", n you haven't given me leave to call ya Bella, so I won't presume to use it. As ya know, I'm James, I'm a 23 year old Infantry man, and I joined the Army cause it seemed like a better fit for me than just tryin to find a job outta high school; college was never for me. Not that college is bad! It's wonderful that ur continuing on in ur education, and hey! Ya always need nurses, so you've picked a right good field. Um, I'm from a small town in Louisiana called Shreveport. It gets so hot n humid there that I swear, your balls stick to ur …um, never mind. It just gets real hot. Most people live their whole lives there, and it's about as backwater as ya can find anywheres. I guess I wanted somethin more, even though my Uncle Jim Bob wanted me ta take over the family business o fixing cars; I like fixing the cars, but it didn't seem like a darn good reason to stay. So I signed up n shipped out, determined ta see the world on Uncle Sam's dime. That was 3 years ago, n a lot has changed. I like that ya "over-shared", as ya call it, cuz it makes me feel like I can be as open as ya. I'm goin thru a divorce with my high school sweetheart. She…I dunno exactly. She said she's okay with the military lifestyle, but I don't think she knew what she was gettin into. I can't fault her for wanting a divorce as I've been away from her more then I was ever home in our short marriage. I can, however, blame her for bein a lyin bitch (pardon my language, ma'am) n cheatin on me with my Cousin Earl. This is prolly what ya meant by "oversharing" as I'm dumpin a bunch o my personal stuff on ya, but I can just tell ur different. Ya took the time to write to a complete stranger n try to make my deployment easier. Oh, n I'm deployed here n Afghanistan. I preciate ya signin on to write to me, n I am right thankful for the Good Lord showin me there is still a couple a good females in the world. I'm not much for letter writin tho, so here's my . I know they say to send me letters, but the email works faster…ya could still do the letter a week n write me emails, right? I've gotta go, my unit n me are goin on patrol. Hope to hear from you real soon like!

Ya Soldier,

James Smith

PS. I folded you an Origami Tiger. Sorry if it smooshed a bit. My buddy showed me how! Oh, n I included some authentic Afghanistan sand for you. J

Well…he seems…sweet. I…aw hell with it, I might get physically ill at all the misspellings and the horrible use of grammar. Who am I kidding? ENGLISH MINOR here! My enthusiasm must've visibly dimmed a bit because after I'd read through the letter Alice and Rose plucked it from my hands and read it together. Afterwards, they joined me on the couch where I'd sat down and cuddled in. Now, I can't explain the comfort of being tangled up with your friends and more importantly those who love you, it's just one of those things that you either understand of you don't, but somehow I was both being sat on and sitting on someone, and our legs were entwined in an intricate knot. Yes, a blatantly homosexual looking moment…get over it. I don't know why I was feeling like this. I'd hoped for someone my age, so we'd have more in common, so we could relate to each other and that would give us a common starting point for any further discussions. Somehow, though, I thought…there really is no way to say this without sounding like a snob, I thought he'd be a little more intellectually inclined. Even as I admitted that to myself, my conscience started the verbal beat down about how "pretentious" and "flat out rude" I was being. Alright, I'll leave the grammar alone for now, but there are still other problems. What do I say to a

guy who is getting a divorce, whose wife (who sounds like a skanky ho) cheated on him while he was deployed? I mean, really? Who DOES that? On top of that, he seemed to be putting me on a pedestal, like I was the exception and the rest of my gender was just like his wife, *ahem* soon to be ex-wife, whatever.

Rose broke the silence first, "Wow. That's just…wow. At least he seems like he's going to be a sincere, open, definitely blunt, honest pen pal?" I just kind of mutely nodded my head, but Rose must've given Alice a look because she went from being pensive like me to the realm of positivity. "Seriously, Bells, he seems sweet!" (At which point I cringed as she reiterated the only nice adjective I could think of in my first impression.) "Honestly, hun, he made you an Origami…what is that?" "Ali, it's a tiger." "Well, Rose, I don't claim to be an expert on Origami and I didn't want to tell her the damn thing was a fish or something. You're NOT helping!" To which Alice added the classic of sticking her tongue out at Rose, which Rose automatically returned. Before this got truly childish, I decided to try to explain. "I know, he seems well intentioned, I just…I got this weird vibe. Especially with the whole 'at least there's one good girl' or however he phrased it." I sighed, then continued, "It just reminds me of when Jacob and I dated senior year in High School. He put me on such a high pedestal that I couldn't be myself for the fear of disappointing him. And y'all know how messy and painful that break-up was! We only just started tentatively talking again two months ago after we both left town to go to college. I just don't want another guy thinking I'm something I'm not." Rose and Alice shared a look of understanding and I was soon in a Bella sandwich. Both my girls knew how much my relationship with Jacob had messed me up, and even now, a year later, they were still distrustful of Jacob because of how our relationship ended.

Thank God Rose's cell started to ring, as we really needed someone or something to break up the suddenly depressed mood. Always the pranksters, Rose and Emmett had picked out ringtones for each other on their cells when they first started dating, like a millennia ago. Since then, they've continued the tradition so that every time they see each other after they've been apart more than a week, they change their respective ringtones. I asked her one time why she never changed any of the more ridiculous one's Emmett's picked (Wild Thing, I Wanna Sex You Up, Candy Shop, etc.) since we all know Emmett to be the King of Cheesy and over the top. Plus, we all remember the verbal ass-whooping he received after he called her during a class presentation and her Political Science class was treated to "Pour some sugar on me…" at an embarrassingly high volume (the next time he saw her, his new ringtone was One In a Million by Ne-Yo). In one of her rare sentimental moments, she smiled at me with a bit of a dreamy look and stated the obvious, "Because I love him, even when he's a dumbass." Anyway, we got untangled and Rose jumped up to answer the phone, going into her room to talk. The phone call reminded Alice and I that we should probably get to sleep as tomorrow promised to be very eventful: Emmett was finally going to be moving in!

The next morning dawned sunny and clear, which I found out by looking up the weather channel when I got up at 10 am. Alice was buzzing around the kitchen, making a huge brunch to give her something to do with her nervous energy. We hadn't seen Em in a couple months (since he'd helped us move down here) and so we were all excited to see him, though I think Rose and Ali were a tad more so than me being that he was Rose's boyfriend and Ali's brother. Nonetheless, I was thankful for the yummy breakfast and sat down to a fabulous omelet, juice, and some toast. After finishing and clearing my

dishes, I wandered the apartment until I found Rose and Alice in Ali's room. I love Ali's room, because she has an eye for colors and textures that she combines in a style all her own. Her room is a mix of jewel tones and black and whites, which combine to make this comfortable yet visually attractive space; I keep telling her she should go into design, but whatever makes her happy! I jumped on her bed and kept jumping while shouting "Earthquake!" until both girls got a hold of my calves and pulled me down. We were all laughing at that point, though I could tell they were still a bit irked at my rude interruption. I lay on my corner of the bed where I'd collapsed after my dethroning, running my fingers over a burlap textured pillowcase and listened to them resume their conversation.

"Rose, he has to have told you by now! For goodness sake, he's freaking moving down here today!" "Well, Ali, I don't know what to tell you! He teased me all last night about it and no threatening, teasing, or promise of bribes would get him to break… though I think I was really close to getting him to spill when I ventured into the sexual favors portion of my bribery campaign!" At which all three of us snickered, because it is a well known fact that Rose has Emmett wrapped around her little finger. She's flat out sexy, especially when she tries to be and I silently gave Emmett big kudos for not giving in; I definitely would've put my money on him succumbing. I knew what they were talking about, of course, and it'd been on my mind today as well. See, Em had decided it'd be a nice surprise not to tell us where he was moving. I don't know why, but he is immovable once his mind is set. We know he is going to be in Santa Barbara, and we know he was looking at a couple complexes Downtown. However, about a week and a half ago, he'd gotten very vague on where he was going to be renting and we had tried everything we could think of to get more details, but to no avail. So we were waiting for him to pull up to our apartment complex.

He was driving down from Forks in a moving truck and had been on the road for the past 2 days. He'd called from his hotel last night, Rose informed us, and planned to get here around noon. We were going to feed him and then we were going to caravan to his new place, at which point we were going to put on our best macho impressions and help him move in to his new place; speaking of which, I'd better get dressed, so I jumped off Ali's bed and darted into my room, which was between her and Rose's. My room was done in greens and blues and I loved how calm it always made me feel. I rummaged through my drawers and came up with my favorite pair of old jeans and a UCSB t-shirt I'd bought to blend in when I went along to the college soccer games with Rose and Ali. After securing my hair in its customary ponytail, grabbing the Chapstick and my cell from the dresser, I was ready. I walked out of the room and into Ali, who'd just left her room and was heading towards the living room.

Now, let's get one thing straight. I consider myself attractive, and Rosalie is in your face gorgeous, but Ali possessed a panache all her own. She was that girl with the laugh that made guys turn around and search for the sound of the melodious, tinkling mirth. She'd dressed in some comfy black yoga pants, but had added a flowy green peasant top and black ballet flats that made her look chic and cute. Her light brown hair (a recent change from her dark brown/black) was perfectly tousled and her make-up accentuated her green eyes and lightly tanned skin. I gave a mostly inaudible sigh of envy and then flashed her a grin and began to tease, "You ready to get all sweaty Princess?" To which she literally wrinkled her nose at me and made a scoffing noise as she preceded me down the hallway and into the living room. We found Rose perched on the couch, and damn if I didn't feel like the frump next to these

two! Rose had pulled her hair back into a ponytail too, but hers was a high pony and she'd slicked back the rest of her hair to give her a sleek look; also adding subtle touches of makeup to bring out her blue eyes and some lipstick for a little lip color. She'd also worn yoga pants, but she'd paired them with sensible sneakers and a simple white tank top; she looked lean, athletic, and her outfit choice only highlighted her fabulous shape. Well screw it, apparently it was a yogas day, so I quickly headed back to my room and exchanged my jeans for my own pair of yoga pants.

As I was starting to sit down on the couch we heard these loud footfalls coming down our walkway, and we looked at each other with giants smiles and squealed, "EMMETT!" Rose beat Alice to the front door, but just barely. She threw it open and there he was, massive, tall, and with a heart of gold to match his killer smile. He took one look at Rose and Ali in the doorway and picked them both up, one in each arm, and twirled them around like they weighted nothing, with his booming laugh of happiness eliciting their laughter as well. After a few minutes, he put them down and saw me holding open the door. He proceeded to walk in and literally sweep me off my feet as well. I knew that, while we were airborne, he'd give us each our own special greeting. Mine was the same as it'd been since we were little and I couldn't help but smile as he whispered it in my ear while he twirled me around, "Hi Belly-girl, thanks for letting me come over to play!" Per our routine, I responded, "Ewe, Em, get off me! You have cooties and I can't breathe! Now I'm going to have to get a cootie shot!" while playfully pushing at his arms. He set me down and I looked around to see that everyone's smile matched my own; it was good to have our man back. Growing up, it was always the four of us who played together. Emmet would join in and we used to torture him when we were little and he'd humor us, letting us do his hair and put make-up and nail polish on him. Little did we know that he had ulterior motives and was doing it because he wanted to catch Rose's attention, but the end result was the same. Even though us girls were the Three Musketeers, things really weren't complete without our Emmy-bear to create the Fantastic Four (I know, I know, give me a break. Emmett insisted on the comic book name in order to salvage some male pride I think.)

After Emmet literally devoured the food Alice had made him (which looked like it would've been enough to feed the three of us girls for a week), we sat around and caught up for a bit. We told him about our school schedules and our impressions of our classes and professors so far. He caught us up on how the Cullen parent's and Charlie were doing back in Forks. He actually had letters from our parents that they'd given him to deliver to us, so we put them in our rooms to read later. After calling Carlisle and Esme to tell them he finally got here safe and sound, we all got up and started trooping out to the vehicles. Rose was riding with Em and Ali and I were going in Alice's car. I heard Rose telling Emmett about the possible roommate that she'd found for him in one of her history classes as they were getting into the cab of the moving truck. I smiled because honestly, who is going to be able to deal with living with Emmett? We love him, but he is like a little boy-child. His room was constantly a mess when we were younger and he still manages to look like he came out of a body builder magazine while eating pizza and other junk seemingly every night; probably because he was a klutz in the kitchen. Literally, we thought I was bad for setting a couple pot holders on fire, but Emmett took the cake when he managed to almost cut off several of his fingers. Carlisle had to reattach the ends of the middle three fingers and since then Emmett swears he can't cook and it is a danger to his safety to even attempt to do so. Any

roommate who lives with him is going to have to be…something. I have no idea what that particular quality would be, but definitely a bit more than your average college guy.

Emmett pulled out of the parking complex and Alice and I started to follow him, singing along to whatever came on the radio. We have very eclectic taste, so we feel just as comfortable singing along with Santana, The Police, George Strait, Wicked the Musical…you play it and we'll at least give it a try. I was in high spirits as it seemed like the core of my little friend family was finally together again and I was sure my good mood would last me through the rest of the gorgeous day in sunny paradise.

*4. Hours. Later*

Kill me. I love my brother, but seriously? I wasn't kidding earlier when I described him as a boy-child. I think he might have some attention problems because we had been all over Santa Barbara. We'd gotten Slurpees, driven by the beach, driven right by all of the apartment complexes in Downtown that he'd told us he'd been looking at, stopped at the Mall, bought some random house items, and eaten a late lunch; I was starting to get a bit annoyed. Yes, it was fun hanging out and catching up and yes I understand that Emmett might just be trying to put off all the work we need to do, but it was coming up on 5 o'clock and we hadn't even started unloading all his crap yet. I did not want to be unloading that stupid moving truck in the dark, and I informed my darling brother of this. He checked his watch for the millionth time (which he'd been doing frequently for like the past hour) and Rose finally snapped a little bit. "Em, do you have some place you need to be or some prior engagement you need to make? What the hell is with all the watch checking? It is precisely one minute since you LAST looked at your watch. Seriously, babe?" Emmett gave us his famous slow smile and asked us if we were ready to go, to which we all practically yelled, "YES!" He paid the tab (ever the gentleman) and we once again piled into our respective vehicles. I was flabbergasted when we pulled back into the parking lot of our apartment complex. What the hell where we doing here? Alice parked and I got out only to confront a beaming Emmett. "Dude, why are we here? You better not be screwing with me, because if this means what I think it means…" I trailed off because I'm slightly superstitious and believe that sometimes when you say things you can jinx it. He just looked at me for a moment before politely enquiring, "Is there a bathroom in the Leasing Office?" You've. Got. To. Be. KIDDING. ME! ARGH! I was seething at this point and just pointed at the building. We really drove back up State Street to our place so he could use the bathroom? Honestly. Honestly, I tell you!

I walked over to the truck and opened the cab to find a similarly fuming Rose. I looked over my shoulder to see Alice right behind me, and we looked at each other before simultaneously declaring, "I'm gonna kill him." While it was a bit comical, we were all not really in the mood to see the humor. We climbed into the cab with Rose and we sat and stewed in silence for 10 minutes. Seriously, how long does this guy take to use the restroom? His gender got the easy end of the bathroom routine, just point and shoot! Just as I was getting ready to voice my objections to him dragging out his visit to the little boy's room, Emmett emerged from the Leasing Office. As he started towards us, we all seemed to notice that something was slightly altered; he had paperwork in his hand. No…nah, he wouldn't…I looked at the girls and they both shrugged their shoulders at me, and then we proceeded to pile out of the truck.

By this time Emmett had reached us and proudly proclaimed, "Honey, I'm HO-OME!" …at which point he was punched by his three girls.

Who does that? I get that it was supposed to be a surprise and all, but why on Earth would you drag us around town for four hours? After demanding clarification and an explanation, we finally got the whole story. When Rose and Emmett had talked a week and a half ago, she'd told him about how our neighbors down the hall were moving out and how all of us girls were glad because their side of the complex seemed to perpetually reek of pot and we had deduced that they were the culprits. Emmett had called our landlord right after he'd gotten off the phone with Rose to enquire about renting the apartment. We hadn't suspected he would because we thought the 2 bedroom was out of his budget, since he'd told us he was looking for a one bedroom. It was only two days ago that he told Rose he might be interested in getting a roommate. Apparently, the landlord had promised the apartment to another couple, but had told Emmett that they weren't sure they were going to take it; so if they didn't Emmett could have it. The Landlord told Emmett that he needed to check back after 5 today, since that was the time limit the other couple was given to decide whether or not to rent the apartment. Apparently, the other couple chose to decline and so Emmett got the place! By the end of his story, our annoyance had cooled off as we realized that he hadn't been deliberately trying to draw out the suspense. In its place, excitement once again reigned supreme. Em was going to be living only 3 doors down from us! The rest of the day (and some of the night… *grumble grumble grumble*) was spent unloading Emmett's stuff and getting him situated in his new place, which we thoroughly doused with carpet cleaner, Lysol, and Febreeze to banish any lingering odors.

At 9 o'clock, everything was pretty much done and we were all collapsed on his newly made bed admiring our handiwork and ignoring the opend pizza box and sodas on the floor by the bed. I was starting to fall asleep, and I knew that was my cue to go home to my own comfy bed. I had class in the morning and needed to catch up on some sleep anyway. I lurched to a standing position next to the bed and finally persuaded Alice to move by offering her a piggy ride back home (it's a good thing she weighs next to nothing, as I was beat from lifting heavy things for the past couple hours). I didn't even bother getting Rose, and she and Emmett were already snuggled together and sleeping peacefully. I took a moment to study them, and felt that funny little warm feeling you get right under your heart. Even in sleep, her head was tilted up towards him and her hand lay trustingly on his chest. Emmett looked similarly content with his head tilted down towards Rose, one arm wrapped around her to hold her close while the other hand lay atop her own, right over his heart. I took a mental picture and thought to myself, "This is how it should be." True love should be a reliance on each other, in which you are free to be yourself with someone else and know without any doubt that you are completely and unconditionally loved; that you are valued for your talents and in spite of your imperfections. Alice interrupted my romantic musings with her whisper in my ear that echoed my own sentiments, "We need that." I replied, "I agree, but my more immediate concern is bed!" She giggled and we left Emmett's place, using his spare key to lock up. Due to my passenger's bossy command of "giddy up, horsie!", I clomped and cantered/skipped my way down the hall to our door neighing and making the occasional nickering noise; I'm sure our neighbors absolutely loved us doing this at full volume at around 2 am! After dropping my bundle in her bed, watching her curl up in her bedding and then tucking her in while humming our favorite childhood lullaby, Claire d'Lune , I deemed her ready for bed and dropped a kiss on her forehead before tiptoeing out of her room and closing the door. After completing my nightly hygiene ritual and crawling into bed, I breathed out a blissful sigh. There is really nothing to compete with the feel of your own bed, the feeling of cool, smooth sheets against your legs, and the clean, slightly perfumed scent of laundry detergent from your bedding. As I started to drift off, I mentally reviewed the day and once again thought of James' letter. I resolved to write him an email tomorrow after I got out of school and fell asleep, dwelling upon the idea of finding my one and only; only to dream of a man with unruly bronze hair who looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't quite place…

*A/N: SO! What did ya think? Huh, Huh? Lol. Sorry, couldn't help it. Craving reviews is an unfortunate by product of firt-time writer's syndrome. Tell me what you like, what you don't like, tell me who is you favorite, tell me what you had for breakfast…I'm not all that picky! Well, besides mayb the breakfast thing. I'm sure you had a great breakfast and all…and I'm off topic.

Right! Short Closing notes. Umm, thank you all for reading, it absolutely makes my day to have you guys validate my work. Also, as promised, Soldier-ward is coming but…as cliché as it sounds…*sing song* patience is a VIR-TUE! *sing song*

…*runs and hides behind Stephanie Meyer* See you next chapter! *Hugs* 3 3 3


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I apologize for the wait and also for any errors. I didn't have this chapter beta'd as I'd been horribly blocked story-wise and I just managed to finish it. It felt cruel to drag this out another couple days while I had the wonderful dsmrm2023 tweak it for me. I hope y'all like it and enjoy!

-The rest of that week was a flurry of activity. The girls and I adjusted to having Emmett around again (also known as we started cooking enough to feed a small army as Emmett started the routine of eating dinner with us) and he learned our schedules. He also reminded us about his singular…talent. Like when he decided to prank Rose…

*Flashback*

I was sitting on the toilet (lid down folks, chill.) painting my nails while Alice was giving me a mini-pedicure because my feet "are disgusting! No one is going to want to cozy up to you post-coitus when you have super rough feet and you are only making them more unattractive by not taking the time to trim the nails and paint them!" *eye roll* However, I was willing to put up with her muttering and mothering as long as I got a free foot massage and pedi out of it! While we were engaged in feet-beautifying endeavors, Rose was in the shower. I don't really know how, but we all seem to somehow end up together in the bathroom, chatting away. Apparently it is awkward for some people, but I guess if you've been doing it since preschool you tend to lose that pretty quick. Anyway, we were SUPPOSEDLY talking about my soldier, James but we'd gone off on another tangent per usual.

"Seriously guys, you have to talk a bit louder! I'm listening to this over the sound of rushing water!" Rose complained from a few feet from us. Ali and I snickered at the slightly louder than normal pitch, but we complied.

"Chill Rosie, I was just telling Bella that she is never going to get any with her feet all rough and dry. No one wants you to rub the equivalent of sandpaper along their calf while y'all are doing the dirty-dirty! I mean seriously, you could throw off his entire rhythm." How Alice manage to state that in a righteous tone while maintaining a straight face I won't know, but Rose and I sniggered.

"Oh, come on Ali, not like you can talk! Virgins, the both of you!" Rose rebutted.

"Geez, can we just calm down?" I asked. "Just because you are a LOOSE WOMAN and you and Emmett started doing it in the back of the Cullen's SUV sometime during High School doesn't give you the right to be preachy." Ali and I laughed and stuck our tongues out at the vaguely human outline we could see through the opaque shower glass door.

"Very mature Ladies, you can roll your tongues back in your mouths now," Rose replied, without even having to look at us, "…its not like you know what to do with them anyway." The shower stopped and she stepped out, after wrapping herself in the towel that'd been slung over the shower door. "Ex-cuse me?" I stuttered out.

"Well that was rude! Hmmph!" Ali exclaimed and then threw a wink my way while Rose reached for the folded towel on the counter to towel dry her hair. I knew what that meant and I was more than willing to play along. Operation 'Make Rosie Feel Bad and Apologize' was about to get underway! ... Until Rose pulled on the towel and, as it came undone, it rained small black things onto our tiled bathroom floor that then started wriggling.

Instant. Chaos.

Rosie started screaming hysterically and ran out of the bathroom buck naked, yelling, "SPIDERS!" and Ali smeared nail polish all over my foot when she dropped the nail polish brush; she was busy making grossed out, whimper noises and trying to dig the little creepy crawly looking things out of her hair. When Rosie shook out the towel, some of the bugs were flung in her hair as she'd been sitting on the floor. I was momentarily stunned, and then hugged my legs to my chest to get them away from the little squirmy black things littering our bathroom floor while yelling for Emmett.

Little did I know, the asshole had been listening at the door. So when Rosie had run out of the bathroom like it was on fire, she'd run straight into him and sent them both tumbling to the ground. Instinctually, he'd grabbed on to her (in some rather interesting places, I'm sure) and after Rose had realized she'd found Emmett she started babbling out a plea (read that as incoherently begging) for help. After taking a moment to appreciate the feel of his lover's very curvaceous, very naked body on top of his, Emmett stood up; gathering a shaking Rosalie in his arms. She, in turn, was whimpering in fear. I should mention that ever since she'd been bitten by a brown recluse spider as a kid while playing in an abandoned field one summer, she's been completely terrified of spiders. Then again, having a bite on your hand that swelled up to roughly the size of a golf ball and then having to put up with the doctor lancing it to get out the venom can do that to a person.

Anyway, Emmett strode into the bathroom…and promptly started laughing at all of us. Emmett laughing shocked us out of our various states of grossed out-ness and we simply stared at him. He was our protector. It was his job, as the sole male in the group, to intimidate potential boyfriends (or males in general when it came to them ogling Rose), lift heavy things, unscrew the lid off the pickle jar when we couldn't manage it, and, perhaps MOST importantly, kill any and all bugs. Period. Yes, stereotypical and gender roles and blah blah blah…its what happened. SO having him laugh at us instead of immediately rushing to help like he always does clued us in. I reached down and picked up one of the squirmy black bug things only to realize I was picking up…rubber. Emmett had apparently found some kind of joke shop that sold little black rubber buggies of various shapes and sizes that, when given a small watch battery, writhed like live bugs. Pretty impressive and well thought out but we were beyond the appreciation stage right now. His darling girlfriend promptly socked him in the jaw, which caused him to release her.

All three of us girls then sprang into action as if we'd choreographed it and started tugging, pulling, and pushing the mountain of muscle that is Emmett out of the bathroom, down the hall, and out the front door. He was protesting that it'd been just a joke and he didn't mean to actually scare us, but it was to no avail. He'd shot himself in the foot on this one, especially with Rose. While Ali and I were doing most of the tugging, she had him firmly by one ear and was twisting it and whispering to him (very uncomplimentary things I'm sure). Oh wait, I just caught the words "castrate" and "vise"…scratch my previous statement, Rose was threatening bodily harm to his manhood. Atta girl!

After we'd pushed and shoved Emmett out of the apartment and closed the door in his face and then audibly flipping the lock, we heard the whistle that alerted us. Rose had, inadvertently, flashed some of the workmen across the way as she'd still been very much naked during the "expel Emmett from the premises" portion of the program. When Rose heard that, she audibly groaned and closed her eyes in mortification…and then we heard elephant like footsteps thudding down the hall from the direction of our door towards the sound of the whistle. We looked at each other with wide eyes and immediately opened the door a sliver so we could hear.

*mumur mumur mumur* *mumble mumble mumble* "What the HELL is WRONG WITH YOU! WHY were you STARING and WHISTLING at my GIRLFRIEND!" Yep, that was definitely Emmett's voice. …*mumur murmur murmur* "I don't GIVE a FUCK! I DON'T CARE IF SHE CAME OUT AND GAVE YOU A FUCKING LAP DANCE WHILE NAKED! YOU! SHOULD'VE! CLOSED! YOUR! FUCKING! EYES! *MUMBLE MUMBLE MUMUR MURMUR* "OH I'LL SHOW YOU WHAT I'm GOING TO DO ABOUT IT, YOU PERVERTED MOTHER FUCKER! ...then the unmistakable sounds of a tussle reached our ears. "Well…at least he is back to protecting us?" Alice ventured. We just looked at each other and then burst out laughing like a pack of hyenas. Three girls in various staged of undress laughing so hard that we had make-up running down our faces along with our tears of mirth.

*end flashback*

Yup. Em was definitely back. Of course, we added the experience to our Manifesto with a little black bug taped on for visual reference.

Classes were going well and James was developing into a good friend. It was nice to be able to talk to someone that didn't really know me as well as my girls and Em did. I guess that doesn't make a lot of sense, but sometimes it is frustrating when you know a person so well that you can even pick out their comebacks ahead of time to a fight that you are about to have with them; complete with dramatic hand gestures. It was nice to have an outside perspective on my life and I enjoyed trying to bring the same to James. We'd have late night Skype sessions (my late night, his early morning) recounting what we did that day or yesterday in James' case (though I'm pretty sure he censored a lot of what he shared).

The girls had expressed concern a few times over how close we'd become but I told them there was no need to worry. James had never made me feel uncomfortable or like he was intent on exploring any topics that I thought inappropriate for friends. He still called me Angel, even though I'd expressed my dislike for the nickname but he insisted it fit me and it didn't seem like something worth making a big deal out of. I called him Gunny, even though that is a Marine thing instead of an Army thing, but I thought it appropriate since he was in charge of manning the 50 caliber on his Humvee. Gunner (softened up a bit and tweaked a bit to make it more nickname friendly) turned into Gunny.

Halloween was fast approaching and we were all getting excited for it. I bought some holiday stuff in advance and sent it to Gunny. I loved how his face lit up when he opened his package while I was on the Skype cam. It was so nice to see his normally grave, moody countenance turn into something jovial. He seemed less burdened when I could make him smile and I found myself making every effort I could to make that child-like joy return to his face. Also, I somehow became the unofficial sponsor of his whole unit so I was already compiling a massive pile of presents to send overseas. I'd enlisted Alice's help because, honestly, I definitely needed her help to stretch my small, college budget to cover presents, nick-nacks, and snacks for a unit overseas.

Em and Rosalie were doing good, albeit just as complicated as ever. Though I can't say I'm surprised. They both are more complicated then they appear, with Rose needing a man who is there for her but will also challenge her. Emmett, similarly, likes a woman who can keep up with him both mentally and physically while giving him the affection he needs. With Emmett, Rose could be girly, soft, and emotional which she was unwilling to be for anyone else outside of our immediate circle; Rose hated feeling vulnerable.

Their relationship was a perpetual cycle of him annoying Rose, and then him making her laugh and forget why she was mad at him, followed by copious amounts of make-up sex. I'm all for a "healthy" relationship, but there is something wrong with seeing Emmett's bare ass when walking through my own front door because SOME PEOPLE are spontaneous and started going at it in the living room. I walked my ass right back out the door, snagging a gaping Ali on the way and we went to the nearest store and bought a carpet cleaner and Lysol wipes. Somehow, though, having to clean up after their elicit activities just made things worse since after that since, as Emmett put it, "We now have the tools to clean up afterwards! No place is safe!" Dear God.

His enthusiastic declaration was met with looks of shock (from me), disgust (from Alice), and thinly-veiled amusement (from Rose). "But Emmy, WHY!" I wailed. "Why on Earth can't you guys use your apartment? You have it all to yourself, there's privacy…there's PRIVACY!" "Seriously," Alice chimed in, "you guys have exhausted most of the surfaces in this apartment already AND christened Rosie's new bed. How about y'all do the horizontal mambo at your place so I don't have to go through any more therapy than I'm already going to need, to remove the image of your hairy ass that is now burned into my brain!" Dang. Pixie has a point. Now I'm thinking about his hairy ass. JESUS!

"It's not like we were planning to have you guys walk in!" Rose defended.

"I know, hun, it's just…really awkward. Let's keep all the nasty at Emmy-bear's place, ok? Please?" I asked.

"Sorry Jelly Belly and Alley Cat" said a blushing, apparently remorseful Emmett.

"Alrighty, now that we have that settled!" I said as I started to unpack the groceries. "Who wants what for dinner?" We ended up being lazy and tossing two frozen pizzas in the oven. While they were cooking, though, I walked back into the living room where Ali was reading a fashion magazine (I swear, I could see the little wheels churning in her head already) and our resident couple was cuddled on the couch watching Spongebob (obviously it was Em's turn to pick the tv program.)

"Sorry to interrupt everything, but I was thinking as I tossed the pizzas in the oven…why DO you still have your apartment all to yourself Em? I thought you were planning on getting a roommate?" I asked.

Emmett replied, "Well yeah, Bells, that is the plan. But I am just now feeling settled in my new job with the construction company and I'm still looking for a second job to help pay bills…I just haven't had time to conduct a full on roommate hunt. Though I really need to, since paying rent by myself is starting to hurt my wallet."

"Rosie," asked Alice, "didn't you say something when Em moved in about knowing a guy that might be a good roommate for Emmett? Some guy you know at school or whatever?"

"Oh yeah! I totally forgot about him. I'm sorry, babe. I should've asked him already!" Rose said, sounding remorseful. "I can talk to him tomorrow in class if you want? See if he's still looking for a place? If so, I can invite him over since we are partners on a project and y'all can meet him and see if he'll be a good fit?"

"Sounds good, babe." Emmett said, while shifting around on the couch so that Rosie's head now rested on his shoulder. Gosh, they are so lucky to have found each other so young, I found myself thinking. They're the perfect fit, two pieces of a completely different puzzle that somehow fit perfectly. *sigh* I realized my mind had wandered a bit so I tuned back in.

"…Wednesday work for you, Em?"Rosalie asked. Emmett unfortunately had to work late that day, I had a class that wouldn't be over till late, and Rose would be stuck waiting for the bus but we figured that Ali could hang out with him a bit till we all got home since it'd only be 15 mins or so.

Alice POV

The next morning dawned cold and foggy, with a fine drizzle that had turned into a downpour by the evening. I woke up feeling excited, though, even though I'm not really a fan of foggy days. I had a feeling of anticipation running through me…I just knew today would be a good day. With that unexplained emotion bouncing around inside of me, I couldn't help but bounce along in my daily routine as well. I skipped through the apartment while making breakfast and getting ready for school, jumped in a couple puddles on the way to my car in my cute Burberry rain boots, and beamed at everyone I walked past on my way to class. My mood was slightly dampened while sitting through the tedium of 3 solid hours of math, but it bounced back on my drive home. Even though it wasn't sunny outside, I cranked up the volume on the radio as soon as I got in my cute yellow and white Mini Cooper. I couldn't find anything on the radio that matched my upbeat mood, so I slipped in a cd from my cd case. When "California Girls" by Katy Perry came booming through my sound system, I grinned and drove home through the rain to the soundtrack of a sunny California summer.

When I got home, I transferred my cd from the car into our stereo and continued to bop along, making some spaghetti for dinner. After that was done and there were cookies made from scratch baking in the oven, I'd burned through most of my energy. I realized that I need to calm myself down a bit, so I went into my room and got out my easel and watercolors. I dug out my oldest pair of sweatpants that were splattered with every color of paint you can think of, along with a black t-shirt that read "Forks High School: GO WOLVES!" across the chest in gold lettering. Both the sweatpants and the t-shirt were Emmett's that I'd stolen from him years and years ago, though I'd had to tighten the drawstring on the sweatpants to their tightest and cut the legs so they were more capri sweats; just so I wasn't walking all over the excess fabric and tripping myself constantly. I also took out my contacts and put on my glasses, then threw my artfully spiked hair into a short ponytail.

I then sat cross-legged on my bed and closed my eyes. I did my best to clear my mind (which always takes a little bit for me as I seem to be constantly moving or thinking or talking) and then pictured a blank white canvas. Slowly, an image started forming in my head, though it wasn't what I thought it'd be. I opened my eyes, walked over to my easel and got to work, mixing and painting. Underneath my skilled and deliberate strokes, a scene started to come to life: a white, Southern looking plantation house with solid, graceful white columns and a sprawling veranda surrounded by a field of flowers and overgrowth, hedged in on one side with an encroaching forest. The whole left side of the painting, which contained the house, was bathed in sunlight and reflected off the little babbling brook the twined through the front yard. However, the woods I kept shrouded in shadows. I always felt that was how woods should be seen. Beautiful, mysterious, forbidden…the kind of scene that sends your pulse racing a bit and the lick of danger that only adds to the thrill of the exploration.

By the time I'd completed the finishing touches of shading, adding depth and grays to the shadows in the forest and little blue winged butterflies to the field of flowers and the house, I was about as mellow as I could be. I looked at my painting with a critical eye, noting things I would change or fix, but then I let it be as I always do. I brought the painting out into the living room and set it back on the easel to dry, since it would dry faster out there due to the large window I'd opened.

I then went into the kitchen and grabbed a still slightly warm cookie from the tray I'd left cooling on the rack after I'd pulled it out of the oven during one of my stretch breaks while I'd been painting. After biting into one and moaning at the decadent and comforting taste of chocolate chip, I poured myself a glass of milk and snagged another cookie on my way out of the kitchen. I settled on the couch, once again pulling my legs up so I was cross-legged and studied my painting again, trying to think if I should make up a name for it or see if it would come to me.

The butterflies and the contrasting shadow and light spoke to me, but the name I came up with didn't fit. Oh well, it'd come to me. They always do. I might wrap this up after it dries and hide it in my room and then give it to Bella as a "just because" present; she loves butterflies. Just as I'd finished the last cookies and set down my now empty glass of milk, the door bell rang.

"Who the heck…?" I thought as I got up to answer the door. I pulled it open and I suddenly felt short of breath. The sun had come out while I'd been painting and cooking, and it was now glinting in the highlights of the hair of the handsomest man I'd ever seen. My palms suddenly felt a little damp and when I spoke, I couldn't seem to find my composure, instead sounding like a pre-teen with my shaky, "H-h-h-How c-can I h-help you?" God, now he probably thinks I'm mentally handicapped! Brilliantly done, Cullen, I admonished myself.

"Um…excuse me ma'am but I'm here to see Rosalie? I'm her partner, Jasper." He. Has. An. Accent. Please catch me as I swoon! I know, I know, so completely stereotypical a response but it is a particular weakness of mine. I'd watched Gone with the Wind one too many times in my youth apparently, since I'd always wanted a Southern gentleman all to myself.

I realized I'd been kind of starting at him stupidly and I invited him in. After quickly (and hopefully subtly) checking to make sure I wasn't actually drooling because…eww, I invited him to sit on the couch and began my role of hostess. I explained that the girls and Em were all on their way back from various activities but that he could hang out till they got home. He commented on how it smelled delicious and I explained how I'd cooked dinner and some cookies. After offering some to him (which he praised as being even better then the store bought dough), I happened to pass by the mirror we have over the coat rack when I went to hang up his rain coat. HOLY! SHIT! I'd looked a hot mess! I'd completely forgotten about my tossed up hair, glass, paint splattered clothes, and I had paint on my face! No wonder he'd said "um.." at first! I turned back to see him sitting on the couch looking at me and he chuckled.

"Ma'am, I do believe you are blushing." He informed me. Well thanks, Captain Obvious, I must've mistook my checks feeling hot for a sunburn! *eye roll* "Oh, well yes, um…I'm so sorry to just leave you sitting in here like this but I…I really need to go change!" I said. He opened his mouth to say something, but I was already rushing by him to my room. After the fastest outfit change and make-up job in Alice-history, I was back in the living room. As I walked in I started to say "I'm so sorry to keep you waiting…" only to find Jasper had moved from the couch and was now standing in front of my painting, studying it intently. In fact, it seemed almost as if he were searching it for something.

"Um…Jasper?" I hesitantly asked. "How did you…why did you paint this?" He queried. "I don't know, it just came to me, I guess. I clear my mind and images come so I paint them." I replied. "Jasper, what's wrong?" He turned towards me slightly from the intriguing scene before him so I could once again see his intense light brown eyes drinking in the picture on the canvas before he said a couple sentences that would confuse the hell out of me. "Ma'am, that's my family house back in Georgia. It's missing a few small details like the third step on the front stoop being broken from when I stepped through it as a child but I'd swear on my Mama that that's my house."

*stunned silence*

"Jasper, that's impossible. I just met you today. How on Earth could I have painted your home?" My eyes were probably bugging out of my head, so I took two calming breaths. "It must just be a coincidence. I love old Southern architecture and this is what my mind conjured up. No need for alarm or confusion," I offered.

He fully turned towards me and when his eyes connected with mine I could've sworn I felt a tingle of awareness skate down my spine. God he was gorgeous with his rangy, slim build and his tawny eyes offset by his sun-kissed light brown hair. He seemed to do a double take, and my ego smirked a bit as I thought, 'yep, take a good look because I went to all the trouble of getting pretty again just for you.' He extended his hand and said, "I thought you looked lovely before, there was no need for you to change. …NOT that you don't look good now as well but um…so, you never actually told me who you are, Miss…?" Oh. Right. In my flustered state I'd told him about everyone else and fed him, but forgotten to say my name. Duh, Cullen. Real smooth.

"I'm sorry about that, my name is Alice Cullen, but you can call me Alice or Ali!" I said as I shook his offered hand. Again, I felt that weird tingly sensation, and I liked the feel of his calloused hand against mine and how my hand felt small and feminine, almost swallowed up by his.

"It truly is a pleasure to meet you, Alice" he said. I felt that tingle skate down my spine again and I shivered. He drew out my name, somehow making plain and boring 'Alice" sound sensual; the awareness I was feeling just from his gaze and my hand resting in his was ridiculous! This was all before what he did next. He smiled at me, and then smoothly bent his head and ever so gently kissed my hand that still lay trustingly in his grasp.

The moment that I felt his lips on my skin, my only coherent thought, which made no sense, was '…he's mine.' What the hell?

-A/N: Thoughts? Comments? REVIEWS? ;) Tell me whatcha think. I made it an extra long post as a suck up for taking so long with it. Lol. I hope you all are doing well and thank you for reading. See you in Chapter 5! *hugs* ~starryeyedauthor


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I owe y'all a HUGE apology for going on hiatus without a word. I started this fanfic as a creative outlet while I was on a break from school and looking for a job. Since then, I'm still a full-time student, but I also have a full time job now so finding time to write is a struggle. On top of that, with this being my first fic, I'm definitely a perfectionist and I haven't been able to get these next couple chapters to turn out the way I wanted to. However, sometimes you just need to know when to take a step back and put stuff out there, so here is Chapter 5! Hope you enjoy it!

Alice's POV

While I was still coming to grips with my very visceral reaction to his lips on my skin, Karma thought she'd have a laugh and my family walked in to the apartment. Emmett quickly assessed the situation, taking in my flushed features and Jasper slowly straightening from his bent position over our hands. Great. I didn't want any time to try to examine my sudden strong reaction to this man, no! I'd so much rather devote my energy to derailing the "Protective Older Brother" show that was about to unfold in my living room. Right. Might as well jump right in and head this off. I turned towards my brother who now resembled a puffed up 'roid head, subtly pulling my hand out of Jasper's light grasp and putting him slighty behind me.

"Em, don't even think about it! Jasper was just being polite, I wasn't about to get assaulted and kidnapped for chrissakes!" I snapped out.

At this point the girls had fanned out on either side of Emmett, but I'd yet to figure out if they were feeling charitable enough to help me distract Emmett from his professional obsession with playing the "older brother role" to a 'T'. To my surprise, I felt a light touch on my shoulder before I was gently displaced a bit as Jasper moved from behind me (where I'd strategically placed him) to standing a little in front of me. Emmett's eyes widened in surprise at Jasper's move before they returned to normal, his expression becoming unreadable. After a brief moment of tense silence, Jasper extended his hand to Em and introduced himself. Em looked at the offered hand and then shot me a glance, in which I tried to convey the certain bodily harm that would befall his person if he chose to ignore Jasper's cordiality. Apparently my skills, though rusty, still work as Emmett heaved a long suffering sigh and shook Jasper's hand. Thank the Lord, potential crisis mostly averted. Now to put their awkward meeting completely behind everyone…

"Who's up for dinner?" I asked.

Rose POV

How very..interesting. Little Ali likes someone! I never thought I'd see the day! While Ali and I are the same age, I can't really remember her ever really expressing any more than a passing interest in any guy, but the look that she was giving Jasper when we came in was…rather unsettling, actually. It was very "he's the sun and I'm the earth"-esque and it concerned me. I haven't and won't tolerate anyone screwing with my sisters so we'd definitely have a talk about this later; both Emmett and I, and all us girls. I shot Bells a meaningful look over Emmett's shoulder and she answered with a slight nod, letting me know we were on the same page. I noticed Emmett had yet to shake Jasper's hand and Alice was doing her best to mask her nervousness with a ferocious glare aimed directly at her brother. Oh goodness. I imperceptibly moved my right hand from my side to lightly rest it on the small of Emmy's back. I know he might be willing to brave his sister's ire to ignore Jasper's hand but I was confident he wasn't obtuse enough to miss my signal that he needed to respond in kind.

My wonderful man didn't prove me wrong, acknowledging my meaning with a sigh before exchanging pleasantries with Jasper. I saw Ali's expression smooth out into a self-satisfied smile, making me smile in response at her little delusion that her glare had produced her desired effect. She perkily inserted her question about dinner and everyone was willing to let her distract us from the tension in the room.

Despite its rather rocky start, the evening turned out to be a smashing success. Jasper and I got a chance to firm up our plans for our project presentation in class the next day, Jasper and Em got a few minutes for Em's "guy talk" (aka don't you mess with my little sister) when the Emmett took Jasper to look at what would become their apartment, and Jasper seemed to slid right into our raucous mix. It came as no surprise to us when Emmy announced that Jasper would be moving in with him in a week after they came back from their "guy talk".

What did come as a surprise to me, though, was when Jasper managed to score Emmett a second job as a bouncer at the bar/club Jasper worked at. Jasper had quickly caught on to the fact that, as the newbie in the group, he would be constantly ragged on by Emmett unless he took the offensive. Therefore, most of the childish squabbling between the two roommates was actually started and ended by Jasper. The job ended up being a happy by product of one of those frequent diatribes, about a month after Jasper moved in.

"Damn, Jas, the Queen of freaking England isn't coming over tonight! The apartment doesn't have to be "spick n' span, mate"! Emmett snickered out as Jasper continued to ignore him while vacuuming their living room floor.

I tended to side with Jasper, in the opinion that the state of your bedroom is your own business, but as a responsible and respectful roommate you should make sure that the common areas are presentable. However, I was too comfortable and drowsy to sound off on the subject, so I kept my eyes close while burrowing my head a little more securely into my niche, that spot between Em's shoulder and neck where my head fit perfectly; a secure feeling that I hope I never take for granted. After a day of rigorous studies, followed by a pulse-pounding quickie with Em before Jasper came home (that had me still tingling and sore in all the right places), I was content and drifting towards sleepy; let the boys fight it out amongst themselves.

"Emmett. We've had this conversation, friend! All I'm asking is for you to meet me midway here! I feel like I'm talking to a dang tree stump! Whenever you do attempt to help clean, you move as slow as molasses in winter and I end up doing the work anyway!" Jas' cultured tones ground out.

"Oh, but Jazzy-bear," Emmett replied, "I am simply helping you come into your own as a disciple of Martha Stewart! Brandish your feather duster high and clutch your DIY craft book to your breast with pride! All you need is the frilly apron and your man-gina transformation will be complete!"

Oh crap. I'd cracked my eyes open to stealthily watch Jasper's still form since he'd just turned off the vacuum, so I saw him actually visibly stiffen after Emmett's last jab. Ok, maybe I should've interjected quicker. Crap, this could turn bad. Stupid man pride and macho-ness, now Jasper was honor bound to start something, and if anyone in our group followed what Honor dictated, it'd be our resident Southerner. I opened my mouth to interject with a "Hey boys, now now…" before I cut off, as I saw Jasper's shoulders start visibly shaking. Holy crap. Defcon 4, troops. I opened my eyes the rest of the way and pulled away from Emmett, getting up and going to Jasper's side to do my best to calm him. As I gently touched his shoulder and turned him towards me I realized that Jasper wasn't shaking from repressed rage. What was he doing? Jasper was laughing. Not just laughing, he was literally crying from suppressing his laughter. What the fuck?

He turned completely around and through his guffaws and hiccups, he got out: "Man-gina? Really? What the hell is THAT?" More Laughter. "I'm the kid who grew up with a bunch of brothers while you grew up in an ocean of estrogen! Hell, you let them put make-up on you and do your hair! Man-gina my ass! Look in the mirror, Fabio!" At which point speech seemed to desert him again and he went straight back to laughing his ass off.

Mmkay, I have to admit he had a very valid point.

Emmett, of course, is a much more predictable beast and immediately took issue with Jasper impugning his manhood. "Dude, that's so not cool!"

*eye roll* How original, hun. Bravo.

Jasper finally calmed down enough to talk again, "Oh come on Em, chill. I didn't mean it any more than you did, man."

"How do you know I didn't mean it, huh? And why are you backing down so easily? Maybe I touched a truth with the man-gina comment." Emmett stupidly replied.

Oh Lord. Sometimes I really wonder what I see in this kid. He has a heart of gold, but his ability to put his foot in his mouth and somehow manage keep talking around the massive size 13 is beyond me. Jasper demeanor completely changed and he started to project a very focused calm, which was rather unnerving against Emmett's brazen (and booze driven) machismo.

"I know you didn't mean it, Emmett, and you're only getting all up in arms because I insulted your manhood in front of your little lady. I get that and can respect that, but don't think for a minute that I wouldn't respond in a different manner if you were actually serious. Now, I'm sure Ms Rose knows for a fact that you don't have a man-gina coming from the smell of sex that greeted me when I came home today, so just chill the fuck out man. Seriously. Let me clean so I can't smell what you did this afternoon, no disrespect Ms Rose, and then you're coming with me tonight."

Emmett stared owlishly at Jasper for a few minutes before graceless backing down and muttering a "Sorry bro, didn't mean for it to get heated."

Jasper regally inclined his head and then said, "No worries, but you can make it up to me tonight. You're still coming to work with me."

Emmett didn't even question it, as he knew he'd been out of line just by the look on my face when he glanced at me. He shrugged and said

"Alright, Jas, I've your back man", before walking back to his room; presumably to shower and get ready.

Jas turned and looked at me, noting the blush I was struggling to hide behind an impassive façade. I learned very early on in life that if you brazen your way out of embarrassing situations, you can usually muddle through but…apparently I didn't take into account very perceptive Georgian men.

"Don't worry your pretty head none bout any of that, Ms Rose. You take good care of your man and that's nothing to be ashamed of. I'm sure he and you both enjoy the arrangement. I will request, though, the next time that your needs roar to life that you…well I don't want you guys to give me a thought while you're all riled up because quite frankly, that's gross. But, just crack a window for me or something, please? I'd appreciate it."

Dammit. Now I definitely wasn't going to win the fight against the blush. Belle got it more frequently than me, but there's no hiding a blush when you're Irish and fair skinned.

He chuckled as he came towards me, gave me a light hug and said "Honestly, there's nothing to be embarrassed about. It's good to see him happy, and he physical brightens up when you're near. I haven't known any of you for that long but, call it intuition. It's good to see you both have found your happiness so young. My mama used to tell me that was the only real thing in this life." "Find yer happiness, chere," she'd say "and once you've found it, you hold on to it like something precious; tight enough so it doesn't slip away but loosely enough so it doesn't suffocate."

With that both profound and odd pronouncement, he put away the vacuum and walked back towards his room, presumable to also get ready for work tonight.

"Hey Jas?" I called. He turned a regarded me with curiosity. "Thanks for…for all that. Emmett can be an ass, which he knows and we all know but…you handled it perfectly. I doubted you being the right roommate for him, no offense. I'm very protective of my family and I refuse to apologize for it but the way you handled him…I may have been wrong about you."

He simply tipped an imaginary hat to me with a simple, "Yes ma'am, you just may've been at that. Glad to keep you guessin. You have a good night, now," and continued his even paced amble down the hallway.

Hmm. He never reacts quite the way I expect him to. Can't say that I trust him yet, but I can sure as hell respect his demeanor and the affect he has on Emmett. I'd been watching him and his easy, breezy, happy-go-lucky character was a welcome tiller to help direct the boatload of crazy that is my family. I must admit, though I'd probably never say so aloud, but I'm glad he's here. However, I was more embarrassed than I wanted to admit that Jasper knew about Emmett's and my elicit activities so I stuck my head into Em's room, intending to say goodbye and ask him to call me when he got home. As usual, the sight of my man shirtless made my mouth go dry and my senses to heighten; GOD he's sexy! His ripped torso made me want to give in to the sudden urge to explore all lovely dips and curves of his defined muscles by drizzling caramel sauce all over him and licking up wherever it led me. However, embarrassment served as a cold shower and I resisted the implied invitation to sex him up a bit more. I did, however, give in to my hormones enough to saunter up to him and kiss him to within an inch of his life. When I pulled back we were both panting slightly and I could feel how much he wanted me to finish what I'd started. Instead, I placed my lips near his ear and whispered in my sexiest bedroom voice, "Next time, don't be such an ass to your roommate. It's not hot." I then untangled myself and strutted out of his room, looking back to blow him a kiss and wish him a goodnight (and to enjoy seeing him stare after me, I will admit).

"I love you, M & M's" I called over my shoulder.

"And I you, my wicked, complicated, wonderful woman. I love you, my Rosie Posie" He replied.

That was one of the few great secrets to our relationship: we never left the other without saying we loved them and using our special nicknames. It didn't matter whether we were happy or sad, together or on the phone. Even if we didn't mean it at the time because of hurt feelings, it wasn't any less true. I loved this man with all of my being and despite the trials I put him through when we were younger because of my parent's divorce, we had reached a place of mutual understanding and my faith in him was absolute. I always marveled how I could deserve a love like his, when I was the least romantic in our group; the least likely to indulge in fantasies and happily ever after. It's funny how life works out. I lucked out because unlike most girls, my happily ever after not only managed to find me, he continued to take my breath away and sweep me off my feet. I pulled myself from my musings and walked myself the couple of doors down to my own apartment to tell the girls about the little scene that had just unfolded.

A/N: Thoughts, critiques, praise? PLEASE review, I'd love to hear your feedback. Soldierward finally comes into the story in the next chapter (are you just as impatient as I was for him to appear already?), so stay tuned! ~Lovingly yours, starryeyedauthor


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Bet all my readers will be absolutely SHOCKED with how fast I managed to knock out and post this second chapter! Lol. Confession time: I wrote these two chapters together and then realized they were too big to post all at once. Plus this chapter is emotional and I felt it deserved its own niche in the story. Now, I'm going to do my best to be more regular in my posting because I love this story, but I'm carving time away from finals to post these two so please continue to be patient with me. Thank you everyone for your continued interest, I hope you're enjoying the story as much as I love writing it. Last but not least, I have a dedication. It isn't often that I will do this, but I felt that the situation warranted it. These last two Chapters are dedicated to Tjputvin, who 'favorited' my story after months of me hearing no feedback at all. While I admit that I'm a review whore and would enjoy that form of kudos, that email spurred me out of my writer's block and made me sit down and actually bang out these two chapters; so thank you. Thanks for the reminder that people were still reading my story and giving up would be giving up on all of you. So this one is for Tjputvin and to all the rest of you loyal readers. Cheers

Belle's POV

We found out the next day that Jasper had Emmett act as a bouncer at his work, The Wildcat (or Shitty Kitty, as the locals lovingly called it). It turns out their regular bouncer had just quit and Jasper had thought Emmett would be perfect for the job, so he'd brought him along for an informal audition on the night he knew the boss would be there. Halfway through the night, Emmett had already turned away two groups of underage girls, broke up a brawl, and suitably intimidated most of the males in the establishment. Once he saw that, the Manager hired Em on the spot. Alice gushed for weeks after about how thoughtful it was of Jasper to do that for Em, and how wonderful he was that instead of getting offended at the name calling and starting a fight, he instead took him to work with him and got Emmy the job. Quite frankly, it got rather annoying. It was becoming ever more apparent that Alice's infatuation or whatever it is with our Southerner isn't wearing off, in fact it seems to be growing in intensity. Rose worried over it a bit as did Em, but with Jasper showing no more than a cordial interest we figured it'd work itself out eventually.

Far more distressing to me was an email I received today. I'd been a little anxious as of late because for the past week when I'd sign on to Skype to talk to James, he wouldn't be on like he usually was. Even worse, he hadn't responded to 2 of my letters (not all that uncommon) or 3 of my emails (very uncommon). The anxiety that something bad might've happened to him was something that was occupying my mind daily, and I actually cut class yesterday because I couldn't focus. I went over to LaLa's and she calmed me down a bit and distracted me; I knew she'd understand because of Ben. After I'd gotten home, my phone pinged to let me know I had a new email and I stubbed my toes on the coffee table trying to get there as fast as possible.

"Shit, SHIT mother fuckers of the world UNITE! GOD! It BURNS!" I exclaimed, probably far louder than I should since our apartment is in a family complex and the walls are pretty thin.

Oh well, though, pain is pain! I momentarily forgot my mission as my big toe angrily throbbed out it's hatred at being forced into our solid wood table leg. After hopping around for a minute or two and an apology to my poor toe, I remembered that I really needed to see if James had sent the new email currently sitting in my inbox. I sat on the couch and propped up my foot (extreme reaction, I know, but I've hurt myself enough to know that swelling sucks and I don't want a Yeti toe, which I'd then have to try to squeeze into a shoe tomorrow morning for school) and realized I was still being distracted. Right. Focus. I grabbed my phone, inputted the password and clicked on my little letter icon. I fidgeted around a bit while the email program was loading before I saw my new message. Yes! Victory! Do a happy dance, do a happy dance, do a ha…hey wait a second.

The email wasn't from James. In fact, it was from an email address I didn't even recognize. What the HELL, powers that be? I stubbed my poor toe in the mad rush to see an email that is spam? Screw that. I clicked on the little check box and my cursor was hovering over to the delete button to rid my account of the offensive spammage when I happened to glance at the subject line out of curiosity: Concerning Specialist James Smith. Now, I know some people just walk in the light and those people would never do what I accidentally did. They'd never actually accidentally push the delete button in shock and erase the now suddenly all important communication. They wouldn't, but of course, I did. Crap, crap, CRAP!

Now, I'm not technologically minded. In fact, from the minute they leave the store with me, all my electronics are fated to die a slow and painful death; due to overcharging, dropping, downloading too much stuff, accidentally downloading viruses…you name it and I've done it. In fact, I've literally fried my Dad's receiver box in the earnest endeavor to be helpful and fix it. It took me a couple minutes to realize that just because I'd deleted it didn't mean it was gone, and when I say it didn't take me long, I mean it took me just long enough to call my Dad frantically and ask how to retrieve deleted emails. Don't judge me. After a lifetime of wreaking the equivalent to the bubonic plague on a vast array of electronic devices, I've learned that sometimes you've just have to take a step back, not touch anything else, and call a pro. So I did. I used my "phone-a-friend" lifeline.

After being directed to the "deleted file folder", (okay, I'm on a phone people, it wasn't as obvious as it is in a computer where it's sitting just to the left of the inbox screen. Sheesh! So judgemental!) I pulled up the email and heaved a sigh of relief. Okay, this freaking email better be worth it! It better be one of his unit buddies telling me that his laptop was broken and there was no way he could contact me; hence the silence. It BETTER be, because I didn't just stub my toe and have a panic attack about nothing. Please don't tell me…please just…oh Lord, what if it's bad news? I quickly dialed La on my phone and ran into my room to pull up the email on my laptop. I didn't want to read this alone; it felt...wrong. There isn't any real explanation why Gunny wouldn't have just asked to use his friend's computer if his was broken. This wasn't good news and I knew it.

"Yello!" said LaLa's cheerful voice.

"Oh thank God you answered!" I rushed out, trying to still hold on to the hope that I was wrong and everything would be fine. "I need you."

"Oookkkaaayyy…um, could you be a bit more specific please…and a tad less creepy/dramatic sounding?" She answered. I could tell she was picking up on my tone, as hers became more concerned. "What's wrong sweetheart? Are you okay?"

"I…really don't think so. You know how I was complaining that James hadn't replied to me in a while? Well, I got an email once I came home, but La…it's from someone I don't know."

"Oh for Pete's sakes, girl, you had me all worried n shit! Just delete the pesky thing and move on. Just because you're worried about James doesn't mean you need to obsess over every little email that comes your way! Don't you know that people get paid to make programs that generate spam? Hell, did I ever tell you about the time I received a notice that a Nigerian prince wanted to send me all his fortune…."

"LA!" I interrupted.

"WHAT?" she answered back, slightly irritated now.

"I said that it wasn't from an email address I recognized, but…the subject line says it's Concerning Specialist James Smith" I said.

"Oh no," she breathed. "OK. First things first: are you sitting down?"

"Yes," I answered.

"Alright hun. No matter what this email says, we're going to be as positive as possible. We're probably making a bigger deal out of it than it is, but I'm not going to lie to you…this doesn't sound too good. I want you to be prepared, ok?" She gently coached.

"OK." I intoned, even while I found myself wondering how you prepare yourself for bad news.

"Alright then. Deep breath and let's hear what it has to say" she murmured soothingly.

Right. I can do this. I took a deep breath, clicked it open, and started to read out loud:

Dear Ms. Swan,

I'm First Lieutenant Mason, and I'm a whiskey, also known as a combat medic in the Army. I'm sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but Specialist Smith has been wounded in combat. Our unit stumbled upon a nest of insurgents while out on a routine patrol in Kabul, here in Afghanistan. I'm assigned to Smith's unit as their medic and I personally treated Specialist Smith; he was alive but gravelly wounded when I last saw him. He'd managed to save most of us by directing us towards a nearby building, but he sustained 3 GSW's, that's gunshot wounds to civilians; 2 in his left leg and one in his left upper chest, dangerously close to his heart. We medevac'd him to Camp Leatherneck and he's receiving the best treatment possible there. As I was riding with him in the chopper he kept mumbling while going in and out, but we were able to decipher, "Tell Bella what happened". He handed me the first letter you wrote him as they carried him off the plane and into surgery. You were pretty famous in our unit, as Smith constantly talked about you and we all looked forward to the care packages you sent him that we also got to enjoy. I apologize for reading your personal correspondence, but I didn't understand why he wanted me to tell you what happened as it is standard policy to alert loved ones of a soldier status if he's injured. From the way he'd talk about you, we'd all always assumed you were his girlfriend back home. After reading your letter and finding your email scrawled across the back, I surmised that Smith knew you wouldn't be contacted since you aren't listed as family and he wanted you to know why he wasn't getting back to you. I'll do my best to keep abreast of his condition and feed you what information I can. Again, I apologize for having to be the bearer of bad news but…he obviously wanted you to know what'd happened and I wanted to do my utmost to honor the wishes of the man who saved my life.

Sincerely,

1st Lieutenant E. Mason

My heart dropped. Just dropped, into the very pit of my stomach where it throbbed in a matching symphony of pain to the thoughts tumbling through my head. How could this have happened? James and I had talked about him getting hurt, but he'd always dismissed it with bravado and told me I was worrying too much. How could this have HAPPENED? He PROMISED he'd be careful!

"BELLA!" I heard screamed through the phone. I didn't even have the emotional energy to respond back in kind. I suddenly felt so hollowed out. This was the news I'd been dreading, that my friend would be injured and that I wouldn't really know how he was doing because I had no ties to him other than through our letters. All the anxiety of the past days , all the worry and stress…I was right, and yet all I could feel was numb.

"Yes La," I sighed back, barely above a whisper.

"I'm coming over right now. Don't move, I'll be there in 5 minutes."

Then I heard the phone disconnect and I just listened to the buzzing for a bit before I mustered up the energy to click off the phone. I just lay on my bed, next to my laptop. I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry and scream and wail for my wonderfully brave friend who only wanted to escape from a life with no opportunities. He didn't ask to be sent to war, but when he was he made the best of it. I wanted to weep for the man that could be dead even now because he had to do the noble thing and try to get his friends to safety. I wanted…I just wanted to hear his voice again, calling me his stupid nickname, "Angel" that I still didn't like. I wanted to be able to tease him about finding girls to hang out with, and I wanted to continue to help him heal from his imploded marriage.

He deserved so much better than the hand he was dealt. Sure he had his dark moments, but he always pulled out of them for me and I knew if I could just manage to make him smile again, he'd keep getting better. I was only just realizing how good of a friend he was, now that he might be gone; how cliché of me. I should've told him how much I appreciated him listening to me constantly bitch about my studies and my petty grievances before strapping on a gun and going to face men who wanted to hurt him. I should've…no. I refuse. I felt my stubbornness lending me some strength and I found solace in it. I wouldn't assume the worst. His friend Masen said that he was alive when he'd left him and alive he'd stay. I refused to see any other option. I'd talk to him again, I was sure of it. I just needed to stay strong for him and send him thoughts and prayers. It'll all be ok, because…it just had to be, right?

Thankfully La came bursting through the door right then and distracted me from my tangled emotions and thoughts. She sat down on my bed and, at the first soothing stroke of her hand down my back, I found my tears. They came in a giant swell, pouring down my face and racking my body with shuddering, hiccupping breaths between sobs. Bless her, LaLa just murmured soothing nonsense to me and rubbed my back soothingly, letting me have my moment to break down. After what seemed like hours, I'd quieted a bit, and her words started to sink in as I became able to listen to something other than the sound of my own anguish.

"It'll be alright sweetheart. I know it will, just you watch. He'll be healing up right now and in some pain, but he'll be alright. You know Ben was wounded on deployment and I was terrified the whole time he was recovering but he pulled through and he's just fine. They have some of the best doctors and nurses in the military so he's in very capable hands and they'll do their best for him. How'd you tell me he put it? That's right, you told me he'd say he's a "tough sonofabitch", he'll pull through this. He wouldn't want to see you upset, Estrella. It's alright sweetheart, it's all gonna be alright." She murmured several variations of that over and over again, while continuing to rub my back. After the emotional rollercoaster and the storm of my tears, I found myself being unwillingly lulled to sleep.

I was afraid though, afraid that my dreams would vividly portray my imagination's version of James getting shot. I was afraid my dreams would show me his death. But as much as I wanted to fight it, I felt myself drifting off to the rhythm of the soothing circles La was rubbing my back with and the gentle cadence of the melody she was humming. My last conscious thought before I went under was, 'How on Earth can she know he's going to be alright? Even if he is, things will never be the same.' Usually Alice is the prophetic one with her paintings, but those last lingering thoughts of mine turned out they'd be the predictors to a whole new life.

A/N: Thought, comments, questions, concerns, positive reviews? Anyone saw that coming, didn't like how it played out, etc? I listen to any and all reviews, just head on down to the little box over yonder. As always, thanks for reading! Now that I've finally managed to introduce Edward into the story, what did you think of him? Short and terse, I know but he is just a grouchy teddy bear. We'll get to his gooey heart in a bit. See y'all in Chapter 7! ~Lovingly yours, starryeyedauthor

Disclaimer: All Twilight characters are property of Stephanie Meyer, I just exercise the liberty to take them outside their storylines and play with them a bit! Lol.


	7. Chapter 7  The Consequence of Silence

**A/N: Gah. Well, instead of working on schoolwork and taking my finals, I'm indulging myself and my friend which I'm sure I'll regret but what the heck, you only live once right? D, this is for you; feel better sweetheart and enjoy. =)**

Previously…

_But as much as I wanted to fight it, I felt myself drifting off to the rhythm of the soothing circles La was rubbing my back with and the gentle cadence of the melody she was humming. My last conscious thought before I went under was, 'How on Earth can she know he's going to be alright? Even if he is, things will never be the same.' Usually Alice is the prophetic one with her paintings, but those last lingering thoughts of mine turned out to be the predictors to a whole new life._

Bella's POV

That night was such a rollercoaster of emotion that even the echoes from looking back are difficult to deal with. I was happy to finally know something and that he was doing ok to the best of available knowledge, but having my fears confirmed was a major low point for me. I'd never actually lost someone close to me to violence before. Of course I'd had the elderly grandparent and relative pass away, but that sort of passing is more gradual and you can prepare yourself; a sudden, violent turn from healthy to nearly fatal should be enough to shake anyone.

Bless her heart, after La had lulled me into my emotionally drained sleep coma, she'd stayed with me. When my family came home, she filled them in and they followed her advice to just let me sleep it off and then pretend everything was fine until I was ready to face it. Almost a week passed with everyone walking on eggshells and continually checking in on me while trying to pretend they weren't: La calling to say good morning and wishing me a good day, Ali and Ro stopping by my campus during a break between classes to bring me a picnic lunch that we all enjoyed on the grass in the sunshine. Emmy bought a small clutch of cheerful multi-colored daisies on his way home from work and left them on my dresser for me to come home to with a small note saying 'I miss your smile, hun', and even Jasper contributed, with a card slipped in my anatomy textbook featuring a hurt teddy bear dressed in camo on the front above the words 'Get Well'; on the inside he'd scrawled a note saying "We hope he gets well soon and we're all rooting for him. We're here for you, sugar, whether you want to talk or you just want to get on with the day to day. Chin up, sunshine'.

I didn't want to talk about it. I felt, irrationally, like my negative thoughts about him possibly getting hurt had somehow drawn negativity to him. I was afraid to think of him and afraid to talk about it, as if saying the words "He's hurt" out loud would make it worse. I couldn't face the reality of worse, so I pretended and my wonderful family pretended with me, while biding the time until it would all come out. My emotional reactions tend to follow one of two courses: immediate and volcanic. I have a propensity to either have an immediate emotional reaction (be it tears, laughter, anger, etc.) or I let my thoughts and feeling build inside me until they blow (be it worry, anxiety, stress, bitterness, etc.); from my reaction they knew I was going the volcanic route and were just waiting for something to light the fuse.

That fuse was struck intentionally about a week and a half after my email from Masen telling me about James' injuries. After a day or two to get my bearings, I'd fired back an email to Masen in which I simultaneously demanded and pleaded for an update. I admit, I was far from cordial and I didn't even afford him the courtesy of a salutation or an inquiry into his health; hell, I don't even think I signed it. To his credit, Masen didn't point out any of my rudeness, instead assuring me that James was out of surgery and, while he was still listed as critical, he was on the mend. From what he could gather, he was almost well enough to be shipped stateside so he could recover at home "among those who cared about him". He finished off with a promise to write again and inquired after my health and wellbeing.

Screw that! I was still stuck on the line "shipped stateside so he could recover at home'. NO! How could they not know! How could he not have told them? They couldn't ship Gunny back home, they'd be putting him back in the swampy hell hole that he'd escaped from in the first place; not to mention the super slut-a-tron was still shacked up in the house he'd bought for them as newlyweds before his deployment! Where else was he supposed to stay but in his house with HER? He's too proud to go recover at his Uncle's and he didn't really mention any other family. How on Earth is he supposed to recover with that TRASH there in his house! No no NO!

"NO! Absolutely not! This is all wrong!" I yelled out in frustration.

Of course, my concerned and lately over-attentive family immediately converged on my room from their various places in the apartment, crowding into my doorway asking what was wrong. At that point I was well into my tirade, muttering to myself, and they heard snippets like "fucking low life slut bitch queen troll" and "hot and humid as fuck won't even fucking help while he's bandaged!" They exchanged bewildered glances, not really sure what to do to help me. Finally, Emmett had had enough. Subtlety was never his strong suit and he preferred things he could fix with his own hands. I know this whole "leave her alone to sort it out" tact must've been killing him. He gently pushed through the girls in front of him and he sat down on the bad next to me. Gently taking my head in his hands, he turned my face towards him and covered my mouth. My tirade then became unintelligible noises that were mostly covered up by his hand staying firmly affixed to my mouth, despite my best attempt to gross him out but running my tongue all over his palm. He started to speak in what I assume was supposed to be a soothing tone, but Emmett's soothing tone is more like a rumble sound from deep in his chest. It was a sound that I'd heard in varying forms throughout my childhood and the familiarity of it snapped me out of my muttering enough to have me paying attention to what he was saying.

"Baby girl, this has to stop. You're freaking me out and I…I can't handle this anymore. We tried it the girl's way and you've been stewing in silence for days, but graduating to muttering to yourself isn't getting better in my estimation. Therefore, we're on to Plan B. I love you and know that I do this out of that love."

With that vague warning, he got up and then leaned down to easily pick me up and sling me over his shoulder. What the HELL? I immediately made use of my newly freed mouth to berate my brother.

"What on EARTH do you think you're doing you big lug? I'm in my pajamas for God's sake, put me down! You can't just pick me up and cart me around! I'm not the laundry or a load of groceries! This isn't NORMAL and as you're abducting me WITHOUT my consent so it's ILLEGAL! Come ON! What the HELL!" I railed against my older brother, struggling to escape his hold. Though really, who was I kidding? Not only did he outweigh me, he was significantly taller and there was no way I was wiggling my way out of this. In a peak of temper, I bit him through his t-shirt which earned me a swift swat on the butt.

"What the hell, Bells? OW! God, you aren't a freaking piranha, knock it off! Damn girl, I should drop you on your head. Freaking dagger teeth! You weren't raised with a pack of wolves for Chrissakes! The only woman allowed to bite me is Rose and only in very special, agreed upon beforehand circumstances! Jesus, those little suckers are SHARP as FUCK! Do you file them to little points or something?" He continued through our apartment with everyone trailing behind us, and the girls looking at me sympathetically.

"Ok, Em, ew. Seriously. You're offending my ears again. We talked about this bro. Keep your and Rose's shite private, man" Jas chimed in. "If Plan B is the plan you and I discussed, then all of us are coming with you." He directed the girls to put on whatever pair of shoes was nearest and to bring all our wallets. He then skirted around Emmett who was impatiently shifting from foot to foot in the living room waiting for everyone to hurry up. Once Jas opened the door I renewed my struggles for freedom. I'm don't like being carried around, I'm not five and Em is not my father! However, I flat out refused to be carried over his shoulder out in freaking public like some bimbo who'd passed out at the bar that he would then dump into a taxi and pay the driver to take her home; as a random aside, I'll give it to the Cullen parents, they sure raised him right. I reached back with my left hand, seized E's ear, and proceeded to give it a vicious yank, smiling in satisfaction at the rather high pitched shriek my action elicited before repeating the motion.

However, I soon realized on the walk down the hallway and the stairs to the parking lot, that by making Emmett yell out in pain(aka shriek like a little girl, which was actually a rather amusing side benefit), I was actually drawing more attention to the situation. Plus, with every exclamation of pain, Ro's glower at me was getting ever darker. I pretended not to care by sticking my tongue out to her. Fuck. Fine. Obviously I wasn't getting a choice in this, so I'd take the high road. I buried my face in the folds of the back of Emmett's black t-shirt to hide my seemingly permanently stained rosy red cheeks, and let my body go slack; thereby making Emmett carry my dead weight and doing my best to hide. I'd briefly considered pretending I'd made him carry me, but it's hard to pull off a queenly air when you're slung over someone's shoulder like a heavy bag of dog food.

He got to the door of his truck and then I felt myself being unceremoniously shoved into the passenger seat and buckled in. I knew fighting it was pointless, so I just stayed limp to make Emmett have to do all the work of moving me while doing my best to glare daggers at his head. After I was secured, my big brother leaned in and gave me a soft kiss on the forehead. I softened a bit and gave him a small, sad smile before going back to my mutinous glare. I admit, as an adult I'm sure I was supposed to be above such things as pouting and stewing but when one is treated like a child, I think it's only fair to give them a childish reaction in return.

Emmy gave me back a small smile, and said, "I'm sorry Jelly Belly, but this is for your own good. It'll help." Then he closed the door, rounded the hood of the truck and started to get in on his side. As he started the car I heard him mutter, "Please let this help" under his breath. Oh my poor older brother, I mentally thought. Neither of us are good with feeling helpless and this week must've been affecting him quite a bit for him to pull this whole kidnapping routine. For some reason, I started thinking of the first day we'd met…

*Flashback*

"OW!" My knee was on fire and my palm was burning. It was my first day of school at Forks Elementary, since my father had just retired from the military and we'd moved to the small city of Forks to get away from all the bustling city life my dad had hated at his last assignment. The first day of school at a new place is always a trial, but I was also in a hopelessly awkward stage where my last growth spurt had greatly impacted my coordination. I've always been an introvert, and by 3rd grade most cliques are pretty much formed in small towns. I'd gotten my lunch with the money Mom had given me as she'd yet to make a trip to the grocery store and I'd made it as far as a couple steps away from the lunch line before I hesitated, unsure where to sit but instinctively trying to find Rose. Unfortunately I'd hesitated too long apparently, and one of the boys who'd been in the lunch line pushed me out of his way. I felt the sudden shove from behind and frantically tried to check my forward momentum but my tray of food ended up all over my shirt as I crashed to my hands and knees.

In a cafeteria full of 3rd, 4th, and 5th graders it suddenly became so silent you could've heard a mouse sneeze. I only had time to squeeze my eyes shut and think 'please please…this can't be happening' before the first obnoxious, braying laugh started the chain reaction. All I could do was sit on the ground with spaghetti all over the new shirt that I'd excitedly donned that morning in an attempt to fit in, glued to the spot by my mortification with my cheeks flaming red and tears gathering in my eyes. My sister Rose had been over in the far corner talking animatedly to a petite, slender fellow fourth grader with short black hair, so she hadn't seen my class come in but did she turn to see what all the commotion was about. My eyes finally found hers as she stared at me in horror before her expression morphed into one of complete, all encompassing rage. I continued to stare at her hopelessly and helplessly as I watched her get out of her seat and stomp towards me while shooting glares at everyone, telling them to shut up and to stop being jerks. She'd caused quite the stir as we'd walked the halls on our first day as, even in 4th grade, she'd been captivatingly lovely and her ire went a long way towards quieting most of the boys in her path; they simply abandoned laughing to stare at her at she sailed by them.

Before she could reach me, though, I felt hands on my torso lifting me to my feet. I instinctually struggled a little before a boy's voice coming from over my shoulder calmly said, "You're alright little one, I'm just helping you up."

Once I'd gained my feet, my flight response finally kicked in and I booked it out the nearest cafeteria door and kept going until I ended up in the corner of the kickball field next to the fence, as far away from the cafeteria as I could physically get. I sank to a sitting position, drawing my knees close in to my chest and clasping my arms around them, trying to make myself as small as possible. I rocked myself as I keened out my embarrassment, wishing the ground would swallow me up so I wouldn't have to face any of those mean kids ever again. I hated it here! Why couldn't we go back home, where I actually had friends?

Back at the Cafeteria, Emmett (who'd helped me up) yelled loudly for everyone to shut up. As the Cullens were longstanding members of the community and he knew everyone in there since their infancy together, they all listened to the biggest boy in our class set (3rd through 5th). He told them they should be ashamed of themselves, and that when I came back they better all apologize and do their best to make me feel welcome. By that time, Rose had reached him with Ali right behind her. Rose had looked at him with a bit of awe and respect before thanking him for helping me. He dismissed her thanks with a simple "Of course", though his eyes apparently stayed glued to her face for a few minutes (I know all this via Ali who filled me in on what I'd missed, years later). He shook himself out of his stupor when Ro said "Well, I better go find her and bring her back". He disagreed, saying he knew the school better than her so he'd find me and then he instructed Ali and Rose to handle damage control.

So, 10 minutes after I'd mortified myself in front of our entire class set, I'd started to quiet down a bit. I was far too busy thinking up ways to escape and go home to continue my self-pity, like 'I'll tell the nurse I feel sick and then she'll have to call Mommy to come get me'. I suddenly sensed someone near me, which turned out to be Emmett approaching before he sank down next to me. He threw his arm around my shoulders and sat quietly with me for a few minutes. 'What IS it with this kid and touching people?' I thought to myself. Finally, I ventured a tough sounding "What do you want? Why did you follow me?"

"Because, no one should be alone after all that," he softly replied, not at all put off by my belligerent tone. "My Mom always told me that, because I'm so big, that it's my job to protect all the younger little ones at school. You're definitely smaller than me, so I think that means you're one of the ones she's always saying I should look after. I'm sorry about Tommy, he's such a jerk and I promise I'll get him back for pushing you and embarrassing you like that." Emmett reasoned out, all in a rush.

I found myself staring transfixed at this boy. Why would he help me? He didn't even know me! Sure, we're all supposed to do what our Moms tell us, but once we're out of the house that rule usually goes out the window.

I found myself timidly saying a quiet "Um…thanks I guess".

"No worries. I would've been here sooner, but I stopped by my locker since I figured you needed a new shirt for the day" he said while handing me a forest green t-shirt with the words Forks Elementary: The Cubs emblazoned on it in golden yellow.

"Sorry it's so big and uh, I know it's not really stylish and whatever since it's my PE shirt, but it's the first day of school so I haven't worn it or gotten it sweaty or anything so…" he kind of trailed off. Why, he feels just as awkward and unsure as I do, I realized. I timidly grabbed the shirt and then looked at him in confusion…was he going to watch me while I changed? He seemed to have reached the same conclusion as I did because he hastily jumped up and spun around, saying "You can change really quick, I promise I won't peek and I'll make sure no one's coming."

The bell rang to call us back to class, so I jumped up and turned so my back was to Emmett's before hurriedly switching shirts. His shirt fell all the way down to my knees, obscuring the top half of my jeans and looking more like I was wearing a nightie. I'd just finished straightening it when I heard Emmett call out a loud, "Over here!"

I turned around to see Rose and the fourth grade girl she'd been talking to make their way over to us. Rose outdistanced her by a little bit as, once she saw me, she broke into a jog. When she reached me, she swooped me into a big hug and said "I'm so sorry sweetheart, I meant to look for you in the cafeteria but Alice was telling me all about the school and I got distracted. Please don't be mad at me!"

Mad at her? Why would I be made at her, it wasn't her fault. Yeah I was a little hurt that she hadn't found me so I could've avoided the embarrassment, but it was that mean boy's fault for pushing me.

"I'm alright Rosie," I said, "just really embarrassed." "Rosie?" asked Emmett, "like Rosie as in 'Ring around the rosie's, a pocket full of posie's?" He wisely ended that verbal train of thought when Rose shot him an annoyed look. "S-sorry, my bad" he apologized, "just thinking out loud."

"There's no need to be embarrassed sweetheart, Emmett and I took care of it; I'm Alice by the way!" cut in the perky little 4th grader. "Emmett is my twin and slightly older brother. We're in 4th grade with your sister. My mom always says that the reason I'm so small is because I was stuck sharing space with Emmett!"

I involuntarily giggled a little bit because that did sound like a cramped space, as Emmett was the biggest boy near my age that I'd ever seen. Everyone smiled at me when he heard my giggle, before Alice politely inquired, "So what's your name? I know that you're Rose's sister but…" "Oh!" I said, "my name is Isabella, but like Rosalie you can just call me Bell or Bella". "Well, Miss Bella, that shirt looks ginormous on you, but I'll fix it up a bit!" Alice happily chattered.

With that pronouncement, she took her hair tie off her wrist, and gathered the shirt in the back into a short tail that she secured with the hair tie before tucking it under my shirt.

"There," she proclaimed "all set and you're definitely going to blend in now that you're wearing the school colors!"

We all laughed a bit at her pronouncement, but even Ro said the shirt actually looked pretty good on me now that the excess was gathered up and hidden. The warning bell rang, telling us all that we were close to being late. We trooped back to the school building, with Emmett and I walking in silence with his arm over my shoulders while Alice and Rose discussed the merits of the tied-shirt fashion trend. They dropped me off at my class on the way to theirs and Emmett gave my shoulders a friendly squeeze before removing his arm and propelling me toward my class door despite my obvious reluctance.

"Hey!" I exclaimed, "No pushing Belle! Didn't we already learn that that never ends well? Geez!"

Emmett laughed, "So she does have a temper in there!"

I stuck my tongue out at him and started walking to my door. I looked back and saw the three of them continuing down the hall to their class.

"Hey Em!" I called.

"Yeah Little Bit?" He called back.

I found myself staring at him with blatant hero worship, before saying "Thanks…thanks for everything. I won't forget it."

"No worries," he said again, "Happy to help!" With a conspirator's wink, he then caught up with the girls and I watched him try to covertly slip between the girls so he could walk next to Rose as they entered their class, only to be rudely blocked by Ali. With that sight in mind, I walked into my own class with my head high and a smile on my lips.

*End Flashback*

Emmett and the girls met me outside the school after class ended on that first day and we've been inseparable ever since, except for the brief period when Rose and I were with our Mom after our parent's split. I also found out a week later that, as payback for pushing me, Emmett had slipped an entire can of itching powder in Tommy's jockstrap and, apparently he used way too much as Tommy had to go see Dr. Cullen for some relief. Because he'd itched so much that he was constantly sore, Tommy would wince every time he'd have to sit down for 2 months after the fact. Emmett found this hilarious and Alice perpetuated his embarrassment with the cleverly childish ditty "Aw, does Tender Tommy want his Mommy?" thereby turning Tommy into Tender Tommy for the remainder of our elementary school years. That was all on top of the public apology Emmett had bullied him into making to me in the cafeteria in front of our class set for the embarrassing incident. After everyone saw how vindictively the Cullen kids went after Tommy for upsetting and hurting me, word got out that the Swan girls were under the wing of the Cullens and the next few years sailed by with minimal incidents.

Damn. Every time I remember that, I go back to feeling like that scared little 3rd grader. Emmett is still my hero, though the bright sheen of hero worship has worn off a tad. Though I remained outwardly teen angsty, my little trip down memory lane had softened me up. Em always had my best interests at heart, though the way he goes about things might not be the best; i.e. treating me like a sack of potatoes.

I looked out the window and realized that my reminiscing had passed the time and Emmett was parking the car.

"E, seriously, where are we? I'm wearing Hello Kitty pajamas for crying out loud, this is not appropriate 'out in public' attire."

"Just you wait, little one, this is going to be fun. Your chariot awaits, milady!" I laughed as he rounded the hood of the truck and turned around so I could jump on his back for a piggyback ride to our destination. I knew it was his goofy way of apologizing for carting me around earlier despite my obvious displeasure. I hopped on and, as I saw the girls and Jasper at the other side of the parking lot, I imperiously stated, "Onward, Persephone! My public awaits and I hate to be late and keep them waiting. Go girl!" while flicking a pair of imaginary reins, then clicking my tongue and lightly tapping his ribs with my heels. By the end of my little manhood shriveling pronouncement, I was sniggering and Emmett was trying to keep a hurt frown on his face, though a smirk was peeking through.

He gave up and barked out a laugh before shrugging and saying, "Alright Bell, I'll let that one slid but it's your only freebie! Onward it is!", and with that I was hopped, skipped, and galloped over to where the rest of the group was clustered near the exit to the parking lot, complete with realistic neighing. We emerged on the street in what appeared to be Downtown Santa Barbara, and then rounded a corner. A little further up, I saw a vertical, multi-colored sign that read "Wildcat" in lit up, bold lettering. Oh goodness, this should be interesting!

A/N: Thoughts? Comments? Concerns, questions, FEEDBACK? Lol. Did we like the paragraph from the last chapter in the beginning to orient us to where we are in the story? Anyone excited to see what trouble Bell could get into while being upset in an environment absolutely lousy with alcohol? :D Read on!"

Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns all things twilight, I just exercise artistic license in taking them out of their element for my own amusement. ;)


	8. Chapter 8: Hungover and In Pain

_Previously…_

_"Just you wait, little one, this is going to be fun. Your chariot awaits, milady!" I laughed as he rounded the hood of the truck and turned around so I could jump on his back for a piggyback ride to our destination. I knew it was Emmett's goofy way of apologizing for carting me around earlier despite my obvious displeasure. I hopped on and, as I saw the girls and Jasper at the other side of the parking lot, I imperiously stated, "Onward, Persephone! My public awaits and I hate to be late and keep them waiting. Go girl!" while flicking a pair of imaginary reins, then clicking my tongue and lightly tapping his ribs with my heels. By the end of my little manhood shriveling pronouncement, I was sniggering and Emmett was trying to keep a hurt frown on his face, though a smirk was peeking through. He gave up and barked out a laugh before shrugging and saying, "Alright Bell, I'll let that one slid but it's your only freebie! Onward it is!", and with that I was hopped, skipped, and galloped over to where the rest of the group was clustered near the exit to the parking lot, complete with realistic neighing. We emerged on the street in what appeared to be Downtown Santa Barbara, and then rounded a corner. A little further up, I saw a vertical, multi-colored sign that read "Wildcat" in lit up, bold lettering. Oh goodness, this should be interesting!_

Bell's POV

I awoke to sunlight piercing my eyelids and an absolute bitch of a headache. I couldn't even formulate a thought, instead instinctively lurching out of bed in the direction of the offending, traitorous window and after stubbing my toe on the dresser, I managed to undo the curtain ties. Once the curtains fell and the room was blanketed once again in relative darkness, another sensation assaulted me and I groaned aloud. My headache which had previously been dismissed as insignificant in comparison to the abominable sunlight now seemed to triple in ferocity with my switch from horizontal to vertical, my temples throbbing with every heart beat, with an all encompassing dull radiating pain to accompany the stab of pain at my temples. Jesus, I could barely think! I shuffle/lurched back towards the bed, tilting forward at the last second to land on it like a dead fish flopping onto a boat deck. After a moment or two of adjustment, my body relented slightly by taking my headache down a notch or two to where it was manageable again, thank God.

Ok, what the hell is going on?! First things first, I thought to myself, where am I? I cracked one eyelid just enough for a quick scan to assure myself that I was indeed in my bedroom and that I hadn't been drugged and kidnapped. Yeah, I know, I watch too much tv. Anyway, once I was pacified with my familiar comforting surroundings, I let my eyelid close and curled into the fetal position in a vain attempt to garner mercy from the punishment my body was meting out. Right, so I know where I am, but how am I? K, physical assessment: my head FUCKING hurts and needs to just fall off already and leave me alone, my eyes seem deathly allergic to sunlight, my mouth feels like I attempted to swallow the Sahara and a box of cottonballs whole, my stomach feels weird, and my already less than stellar coordination sucked even more than usual as my throbbing toe reminded me. Geez, I felt like one giant example of pain, from the top of my poor head to the end of my unfortunate toe. Alright, tons of pain, headache and stomach ache, dry cotton mouth, loss of coordination, and an extreme aversion to sunlight…what on Earth? My somewhat infantile brain started flashing the words "CHANGING INTO A VAMPIRE" in neon lights, which caused me to snort and chuckle for a second until I realized laughing made my symptoms worse. Ok, now that we'd gotten the ridiculous out of the way, there was really only one conclusion: I was suffering from a hangover, and it was my first and simultaneously one of the absolute worst things I had ever endured. Why was I hungover? I rarely drink, and I'd never drank even close to enough alcohol to cause this!

"Fuuuuuccccckkkkkk", I groaned aloud again. All this thinking was not helping my situation and really the only reference I had for how to deal with a hangover was movies; so what the hell, let's follow that formula and see where it gets me, since anything would be an improvement at this point. I pictured an image in my head of someone looking like a mess with sunglasses over their eyes, taking meds and a glass of liquid. Ok, that sounds about right, cover the eyes, hydrate to get this horrible taste out of my mouth and take some medicine to calm down my head and stomach. I rolled over and again cracked my eyelids as I swung my body into a sitting position. My headache instantly intensified as if it was yelling at me for jostling it, and my stomach responded in kind, seeming to find the sudden urge to hurl appealing. Alrighty then! Sudden movements are an absolute no go! Roger that!

I tossed an absentminded glance at my bedside table, my usual habit to see what time it was, only to see the holy trifecta of amazingness: medication in the form of a couple advil, the liquids requirement covered by a glass of orange juice AND a bottle of water, and eye protection via huge sunglasses that looked big enough to cover half my face. I was so stunned that I just stared stupidly at the items for a minute, and then timidly poked a finger at the sunglasses to see if the intensity of my need was making me hallucinate. When my fingertip touched hard, cool plastic I gave a quiet, "HA!" of victory and swooped the sunglasses up and put them on. Oh my gosh, these were FANTASTIC! I quickly gathered up the meds, popped them in my mouth, and then took a giant swallow of orange juice to wash them down. The fluid seemed to help, ridding me of that horrible cotton mouth feeling and woke me up a bit more. I drained the glass in a few more swallows and then set the glass back down with a sigh of deep satisfaction, once again reclining on my bed.

I must've dozed off again because the next thing I know, I was coming to again with the notion that there was a presence next to me. I slitted my eyes open and was able to make out through my sunglasses a blurry, large form looming over my bed and reaching towards me. Now, most normal people, I feel, would react one of 2 ways: 1) open their eyes the rest of the way and scream at the intruder in sheer terror, Hollywood slasher movie style, or 2) react to the threat by rolling away from the form and screaming to alert others to your need for help while grabbing the nearest heavy or sharp object for protection. I always hoped I would react the second way, like the badass heroines do in movies, coming up in a crouch on the other side of their bed with a baseball bat in hand and ready to confront the threat. I, unfortunately, am unlucky enough to not react either of those more sane ways; no, not me! I ended up cracking my eyes open wider and promptly shot upright in my bed in an attempt to assess the threat and meet it head on; and head on, I did.

In the process of sitting up, I for all intents and purposes, catapulted my poor injured head into the very hard chin of the person leaning over me; instant, head splitting, mind numbing agony. "Who the FUCK are YO….OWWWWWWWWWW! Son of a damn biscuit eater! AHHH…it burns my precious, !" Yeah…I'm special…I don't really know how else to explain myself. Anyway, my perceived assailant/ victim of my head assault had straightened and was now standing almost courteously next to my bed, cupping their chin. I finally opened my eyes the rest of the way, and through the heavy tint of my sunglasses I was able to make out Emmett's apologetic grimace as he continued to massage his injured chin which, I could just make out, had started to redden and pink up nicely; ha! Score one for the Bell asleep to awake defense system!

"Ems, what the FUCK?! What would ever possess you to lean over someone who's sleeping like some kind of creeper who escaped from the movie Psycho?! You scared the FUCK out of me!" I stage whispered. "Damn Bells, no more drinking for you. Hungover you skips over your normal morning moodiness and switches right into Bitch Mode!" Emmett pronounced with a chuckle, his normal booming voice dialed way down in deference to my over-sensitive hearing. Um, excuse me!? I mean, sure I'm not a morning person and HURTING ALL OVER contributes to that ratcheting up about 50 notches, but he didn't have be an ass and call me on it! Rude much? I shot him a fulminating glare, complete with mental darts being thrown at his now grinning face. His voice was full of mirth as he responded with, "Well, I can sense from the waves of pissed off that you're directing at me that you're probably glaring at me right now, but the sunglasses help hide the more intense part of your glare so, I'm good!" Emmett cracked another smile, then explained that after we'd come back last night from the bar, I'd passed out on my bed. I'd slept straight through the morning (thank goodness I didn't have any class, being hungover is frowned upon as far as excuses are concerned), and that when the girls and Jasper had left for school they put together a little hangover cure kit on my nightstand for when I woke up. Then one of them had text Emmett to check on me when he got home from work to see how I was. Furthermore, when he'd come in to check on me, he'd noticed that during my movement while sleeping I'd knocked the sunglasses askew and they appeared to be digging painfully into the bridge of my nose, so he'd been leaning over me to right them and put me out of the perceived pain.

Shit. Well now I felt like the bitch he'd accused me of being for getting mad at him when he was trying to help me. Double damn. With that in mind, I gave my physical equivalent of "Well, I guess I'm sorry then" by giving him a small shoulder shrug. What? I'm female and I dislike being wrong. He's used to it by now, he can suck it up or leave it. True to form, upon seeing my half-ass apology shrug, his smile turned into a smug, "told ya so!" smirk. Ugh, whatever, I hurt too much to care at the moment. On to more pressing matters!

"God Ems, why do people drink if it hurts this dang much! I feel like my entire body is staging a revolt, but I'm still inside it so I get to feel all this CRAP! EVERYTHING. HURTS. The punishment SO does not fit the crime. This IS cruel and unusual punishment! This shit should be illegal!" I whispered out, though towards the end my diatribe my tone slipped from angry whisper straight into whining. Emmett's mirth and good mood died suddenly, and his face became focused and quietly concerned. He gently scooted me over in the bed and crawled in next to me, positioning us so we were both on our sides and looking at each other. "Well sweetheart, people usually drink excessively to escape, from pain or their problems for a little bit" he replied gently, and with a meaningful look at me.

Well, I guess I could see that but I'm still of the opinion that the punishment doesn't fit the crime. What on Earth could be so damn bad that you're willing to deal with these consequences to get away from it for a few hours? I mused on this question for a bit in silence before becoming frustrated. "Dammit Emmett, I can't think right now! My head hurts and everything I come up with is circuitous. Quit being all mysterious about it and share already! What?" I hissed out in frustration, and not a small amount of fear. I knew myself, knew I'd never done this before, so whatever it was had to have been something extremely painful to me. I could feel it, almost like a gentle touch on my shoulder for attention, but every time I turned to capture the reason it seemed to evaporate like smoke.

Emmett sucked in a breath and then seemed to do a quick evaluation of me, seeming to be trying to ascertain if I was ready for this information he needed to remind me of. His assessing look unnerved me, and was so un-Emmett-like that I pulled down my sunglasses a bit so he could see me roll my eyes, in an attempt to tell him to get on with it already. I knew he would tell me, Emmett had always been a big proponent of the Band Aid method when it came to news, aka the 'state everything all at once and then help them deal with it, instead of spoon feeding it to them in small doses'. He slow let out the breath he'd been holding and, rolling onto his back and pulling me completely flush against him on my side, he breathed out one single word. "James."

That's when I felt it. My body gave an involuntary jerk in response to the sudden verbal punch to my stomach. That small, insistent touch on my shoulder turned into an avalanche of memories, overwhelming and overtaking me completely. Getting James' first letter and how his stupid origami tiger made me smile despite his horrible grammar. Logging on to Skype the first time and the anticipation butterflies in my stomach from wondering what he'd look like. Seeing his smile seemingly bloom from nowhere after my monologue about how women needed to be accepted as avid sports fans of football too, that it was the darn 21st century already. Laughing so hard my stomach hurt and tears streamed down my face as he described to me the time his buddies made MRE bombs; their first attempts failing horribly until they finally got it right, only to be chewed out by their Sergeant for waking him up at 2am with the resounding bang. Seeing him open the Halloween face paint kit I sent him for the holiday, and then watching him paint a giant black bat on his face with a huge grin, laughing with me all the way up until he had to sign off and go on patrol. He always waited to open my packages until we were on Skype, knowing I wanted to see his face as he opened it and explain each of the nick-nacks. Telling me how thankful he was that I'd sent him almost a truckload of hot sauce, that it made his and his unit's MREs actually edible and hearing a chorus of male thank you's from the background. Sharing with him that I'd gotten a B in my Math class that I thought I would fail and thanking him profusely for all his help with my homework for it. Good, clean, happy memories that made me miss my friend with a visceral, deep pain.

Then, my mental slideshow turned dark, chronicling the last couple weeks I had with him. Seeing him log on to Skype with a somber, black mood after his friend from Basic was blown up two yards away from him by a hidden landmine, and doing seemingly everything but flashing him to try to coax his mouth to relax a little from that tight line of grief, including signing along purposely off key to "My Heart Will Go On from Titanic, complete with idiotic hand gestures and sappy faces. Then, watching him make an effort to pull out of his mood for me by asking about my life, and finally attempting a small smile that was more of a sardonic quirk of his lips to try to reassure me before signing off.

Listening to him read the letters he got from his troll queen of an ex-wife, Victoria, starting with the one in which she tried to get him to stop the divorce proceedings by telling him she was pregnant with his baby. How his eyes lit up at the news that he would have a son to come back to! It was all he could talk about for weeks. Then listening in shocked horror and disbelief when, after the divorce was finalized because he refused to have his child brought up in a house without love (which I supported wholeheartedly), Victoria sent him yet another letter in which she seemingly gleefully told him there had never been a child and that even if there had been, that she'd never have carried his child to term willingly. I could hardly bear to see him that whole next week, it was if a little part of him had died at that day. From then on, he had such a bitter attitude about women I could hardly stand it, as I was held up as the shining exception; he'd always conclude those rude, vulgar statements dismissing my gender as callous operators with, "but never you Angel, you'd never do something like that."

Trying to coach gently him through the process of mourning the son he never had, but had loved with such a longing and hope in a time where the slightest distraction could mean that he might not come back from patrol. Learning that he'd already named his son, Connor, and realizing that he needed to keep a piece of that precious dream close until he was ready to let go. Seeing that need, understanding it, and sending him a set of dog tags I'd had made with his son's name and supposed birthdate on them to keep with him in his breast pocket close to his heart until he could lay that dream to rest. Watching that proud, good man who had seemed so bitter and unreachable lately break down in tears at the sight of those precious dog tags; letting me into that private place of pain and grief.

Then, that last time I saw him…telling me that he only had a month left on deployment and that once he cleared processing from his deployment that he was going to come visit me in California during his furlough, to meet me in person. Asking him why he wouldn't just take that time to adjust to things back home and seeing the fervent look in his eyes as he told me that he'd only made it through his deployment because of me and that he felt that he needed to meet me in person and thank me. I of course told him I would love to meet him a person, but tried to downplay things a bit by saying we'd both helped each other through difficulties, and seeing the unshakeable conviction in his eyes when he responded that I could've done that without him but he wouldn't have been able to make it without me. Feeling a slight chill raise goose bumps on my arms at the somber finality of his words, and changing the subject to try to get him in the right mind frame to go out there again. Watching him take his son's dog tags out of his breast pocket and string them alongside his so they'd rest near his heart, as he always did before going out. Telling him to be careful and seeing that serious countenance break for a quick second as he informed me that he was a 'tough sonofabitch that wouldn't die easy", shoot me a wink, and say 'see ya later, Angel" before signing off for that last time.

Oh. GOD. I thought I'd hurt before but that was physical. This was a soul pain, the loss of a dear friend. When I'd first heard about his injury I had been so scared for him, so deathly afraid that he wouldn't make it that I kept my own kind of vigil for him. When Masen had sent me that last email saying that he was on the mend, I didn't know what to do. All I could think of was how would I get a hold of him? How will I know he's ok?! I sent probably hundreds of messages to his email, first frantic and pleading, and then moving on to demanding. Still he had not replied, so I'd been stuck in this stasis of not knowing. But as I pulled away from that slideshow in my head, I realized that I had been clinging to that need for closure. That even if I had to lose my friend (which for some reason I'd never contemplated, I guess I just naively assumed we'd stay in contact and stay friends when he got back), that I'd needed to know he was ok before I could move on. Realizing that I would never get that was what had triggered this last crying jag, and I was indeed crying, sobbing and keening into the solid wall of Emmett's chest, horrible burning tears and gasps that felt like knives coming out of my throat. My friend. My Gunny.

Emmett didn't say anything, though honestly what was there to say? He just held me while I cried it out, mourning the loss of a best friend and the unfairness of never knowing if he was ok, my tears coming in great waves that swept through my body and left me feeling hollowed out and empty. When I'd cried all the tears I had and my eyes felt swollen and my head ached despite the all medication's attempts to drown it out, I was reduced to pained little whimpers that escaped from me, intermittently and involuntarily. However, I felt a little more at peace. I'd figured out what has kept me from moving on, and then by acknowledging that that lack of closure was the only closure I was going to ever have and accepting that, I could send my best wishes out into the universe for his health and happiness and hope in my heart that they'd reach him somehow; and with that last hope to cling to, I said a painful goodbye to my friend. As I started to sink into the sleep that inevitably followed that type of mass exodus of grief from my body, my ears picked up on a soft sound. As I lost my hold on reality and slid into the blissfully numb realm of sleep, I realized that my big brother, ever my rock and protector just like when we were little, had been humming to me the whole time I wept. I cracked a small smile as the last verse of Open Arms by Journey soothed me into a dreamless, exhausted, healing sleep.

**A/N: Ok. *Deep Breath In and Out* Ok. This chapter killed me. I must've written about 15 different versions of it, but this one feels right. I'm sorry for not having updated in a massively long time, I'm going to work on that. In fact, I'm making it a New Year's resolution, 2 months late, that I will be posting a new chapter every week or two weeks at the most. These chapters just pull so much out of me, with these characters taking on a life of their own in my head that…it makes me all emotional and junk. Anyway, apologies for taking forever, and apologies for this eulogy of a chapter. I tried just writing her getting over her loss of James, but the Bella in my head wouldn't let me. She'd never lost someone she cared deeply about so suddenly, and as Bella's hallmark is caring deeply it only made sense that she should mourn deeply. Anyway, I'm babbling. Can't believe this is finally done. Hope y'all like it, as much as you can like such a chapter. As always REVIEWS make my day, but critiques work as well…just try to go easy on me because this chapter just about broke my heart for our dear Bella. Thanks again for reading and I'll see you in the next chapter, which will recap Bella's drunken debauchery and feature at least one lasting reminder of a night that she's seemingly already forgotten! See you soon loves! **

**Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns all things twilight, I just exercise artistic license in taking them out of their element for my own amusement. ;)**


	9. Chapter 9: Lady Power Jams & Wings

_Previously…_

_When I'd cried all the tears I had and my eyes felt swollen and my head ached despite the all medication's attempts to drown it out, I was reduced to pained little whimpers that escaped from me, intermittently and involuntarily. However, I felt a little more at peace. I'd figured out what had kept me from moving on, and then by acknowledging that that lack of closure was the only closure I was going to ever have and accepting that, I could send my best wishes out into the universe for his health and happiness and hope in my heart that they'd reach him somehow; and with that last hope to cling to, I said a painful goodbye to my friend. As I started to sink into the sleep that inevitably followed that type of mass exodus of grief from my body, my ears picked up on a soft sound. As I lost my hold on reality and slid into the blissfully numb realm of sleep, I realized that my big brother, ever my rock and protector just like when we were little, had been humming to me the whole time I wept. I cracked a small smile as the last verse of Open Arms by Journey soothed me into a dreamless, exhausted, healing sleep._

Rose's POV

I was once again stuck in class with my Professor, who seemed determined to be an utter asshole to me, and I hate to admit it but I was fretting (yeah I know, but it's the only applicable adjective. *sigh*) over Bell. My Professor seemed to note my distraction and was taking great delight in continuously picking on me when he knew I didn't know the answers to his queries, as my focus was nowhere near my classroom. My Professor had stepped up his attention as the course progressed, edging ever closer to sexual harassment. Finally, I'd had enough when on the last day before Thanksgiving break a week ago, my Professor had asked me stay after class to discuss my grade. I was confused, as I'm a good student and I had a high B in the class, but I shrugged that aside and agreed. When it was just the two of us in his classroom, he pulled up my grade on his computer and I became even more confused. My high B had somehow risen to an A+, which confused the hell out of me because I hadn't turned in any work or taken any tests since I last checked my grade.

I'd leaned into his space a little, so that I could see the computer screen, thinking that perhaps my eyes were playing tricks on me. I heard his voice practically in my ear, saying, "Do you like what you see? Because I do." I turned my head slightly to see him once again blatantly looking down my top before his skeevy, murky brown eyes flitted up to meet mine. "Are you fucking kidding me?!" I sneered at him, "What the hell are you playing at and why do I have an A+? I haven't earned that!" "Well," he said, "I'm sure that as consenting adults we can work out how you can earn it, without you even having to take the final if you don't want to; I know how stressful those things can be on a student. You'll find that I can be very appreciative of…creative extracurricular activities, when taking my student's grades into account." He then smirked, an oily expression that settled on his face and turned his already unfortunate rat-like features downright repulsive, while he moved his sweaty hand to rest meaningfully on my shoulder.

I felt my body give an instinctive shudder of blatant disgust that shimmered through me, which his hand felt. His smirk turned into a cruel grin, mistakenly thinking that I was afraid of his little power trip because of his power over my grades and that I had all but capitulated to his inappropriate and unwelcome advances. In reality, I was trying my best to count to ten in my head, while trying desperately not to overreact and fighting my reflex to throat punch the pretentious asshole that was way too much in my space.

*5…6…*deep breath*…7…*

Then he made a critical miscalculation, thinking he had my acceptance, and let his hand slip from my shoulder to cover my breast. Aw. Hell. To. The. FUCK. NO! Little bit of personal advice: Never, and I do mean never, touch a woman without her consent! Hell, let's just widen that to never touch ANYBODY without their explicit consent! Furthermore, NEVER touch a girl who grew up with a father in the military that was an avid outdoorsman. My dad and I used to wrestle when I was younger which, as I grew older, became more about instructing me on how to fend off an attacker. I acted purely on instinct as my right hand clench in a fist and I smashed a short, right handed jab directly into the center of his offensive face. He instantly let go of me on a howl of pain and cupped his nose which was starting to bleed profusely.

"Don't you DARE EVER touch me EVER again, you little maggot of a man!" I all but shrieked in his face, incandescent in my fury. "I wouldn't be any part of your fucking CREATIVE EXTRACURRICULAR ACTIVITIES bullshit if you PAID me!" I spat, throwing my words at him like verbal knives. "I don't need your extra credit 'HELP' to pass your damn class as I can manage on my own. Now, I'm going to do you a massive favor and give you the benefit of the doubt on this, so let's call this a HUGE misunderstanding on your part. I'm going home and I will see you after break to complete the course WITHOUT any favoritism or additional help from you. Good NIGHT, Professor!" I turned on my heel and started making angry, stomping strides to the door when I heard his muffled retort under his breath, "Like you'll pass my class now, you fucking frigid bitch."

Oh, no. No, no, no, no, NO NO NO! As I whirled back around and took two steps back in his direction, I caught the flinch of fear that flitted across his features. I'd give him something to flinch about, the prick! I dropped my book bag while simultaneously drawing my foot back, only to fling it forward into his groin with all the effort of a kicker trying to make a 40 yard field goal to win the Superbowl. This time, he didn't even have enough air left in his body to howl out in pain, instead instantly crumpling to the ground with a thready, high pitched wail.

As he lay writhing and whimpering on the ground, I educated my Professor further. "Here is how this is going to play out: 1) You will take any boosts you added to my grade out post haste, and 2) You will do nothing further to interfere with my grade besides the general entering of scores I've EARNED because, as I stated before, I don't need any of your fucking bullshit help! If I even suspect that you are tampering with my grade again, either positively or negatively as a result of this evening, I will go to the Dean and the cops after making it my personal mission in life to make sure you aren't even qualified enough to teach kids how to flip burgers at McDonald's the rest of your pathetic life. Furthermore, if I even hear a whisper or get reason to believe that you are trying to blackmail or provide incentive for any other students to engage in an affair with you, I will come back and finish what I started tonight." I reached down and gripped a fistful of his collar to make sure he was looking at me before I asked in a deceptively calm tone, "Now, do you understand?" His answering nod to the affirmative was all I needed, as I then dropped his shirt in blatant disgust at having had to touch him before leaving the classroom. Jesus, the things a girl has to do sometimes! UGH!

As I got into my car and drove home, I felt my righteous anger recede a bit and a sliver of fear work its way through my system. Not really because my Professor, the asshat, really scared me but because the possibilities scared me. What if my professor has been built like Emmett or what if my Dad hadn't taught me self defense and how to swing a mean right hook? As girls growing up and then as women, you are always aware on some level that there are boys and men who don't take no for an answer; who hit and force their women, taking delight in demeaning and controlling them. But you always know of it in a nebulous, statistical way that hopefully never becomes a reality in your life. I pulled off the side of the road as my hands had started shaking, and I let out a cry of pure anger and frustration. Damn that Asshole for this! I felt it inside me now, the subtle breaking that would make me no longer the naïve twenty something who trusted men until they gave me a reason not to; it was gone in a split second, replaced with a wariness that I could only trust men who've proven themselves worthy of it.

Furthermore, I felt dirty, as if his brief contact with me had soiled me somehow. I could still feel his hand, heavy and possessive on my breast and it was making my skin crawl. Without any conscious thought, I was suddenly frantically unzipping and pulling off the sweater I'd put on after leaving class, ripping open my cute light pink button down shirt and yanking it off me, sending buttons flying everywhere. I then rolled down my passenger side window and threw it out of my car with disgust, as if the garment was infected somehow. I didn't ever want to be wearing anything HE had touched. After I'd put back on my sweater, my shakes had stopped as it felt strangely like, now that my shirt was on the side of the road, I no longer felt that his hand on me; like that link had been severed, and I was myself again. I took a deep breath as I felt that fear and panic recede, rolled down my window to let fresh air in, pulled back out onto the road, and as Beyonce's "Run the World (Girls)" came on the radio as if by magic I turned it up and belted out the song about female empowerment as I hurried home to take a long, hot shower.

Over Thanksgiving break, I'd come clean with Emmett and the girls over the incident as they'd figured out from my mood that something had transpired and I did my best to perform damage control. However, I could not control (and secretly got a little female thrill from) my boyfriend's very Alpha male response. A couple days after we got back from visiting our families for Thanksgiving, Emmett had gone with Jasper to track down my Professor. I learned about this after the fact, when my man walked up to me a couple nights ago after disappearing for a few hours and informed me that my Professor would maintain a 20 ft. radius from me at all times. I immediately interrogated him, but that was all he'd disclose about his and Jasper's meeting with my asshole Professor.

Obviously, now my Professor hated me with a passion to rival my own massive detestation of him. He was also obviously too scared to challenge me directly so he just enjoyed taking pot shots at me during class. What the fuck ever, only two more weeks of class then I would pass and I could forget all about him. After heaving yet another sigh at the smarmy triumphant look he aimed my way after I answered yet another question incorrectly, I rather subtly started checking my nails. After I was assured I had his attention because he thought I was spacing out again, I suddenly made direct eye contact while curling my right hand into a fist and shooting him my imitation of Emmett's most ferocious glare. My professor's skin blanched before he averted his eyes and called the class done for the day, stating that he suddenly felt ill. I gave myself a small moment to savor my smirk of satisfaction before hurriedly gathering up my materials and dashing out of class, my mind already so full of checking on Bell that I missed the furtive, smoldering look of hate the professor shot me as I left.

Bella's POV

I felt myself slowly surfacing out of sleep and into consciousness with the notion that my pillow was rumbling in my ear…what the hell? I woke up the rest of the way and identified that the rumbling voice was coming from Emmett, who had not left my side during my recovery nap and who'd let me use his chest as a pillow. God, but I love this man. It took a minute for the words he was rumbling out to make sense to me, but then I deciphered "Hey my beauty, how was class?" I listened to Rose reply through a voice heavy with resignation, saying, "Well, Asshole (as we'd all come to know him, even going so far as to change our notation of him on our 3 Musketeer's Manifesto from Pervy Penguin Man) is still being an asshole! He's maintaining his distance thank God, but he's enjoying taking what stupid pot shots at me that he can. And no, Ems, that does not mean that I will endorse you going to visit with him again. While he sexually harassed me, I definitely physically assaulted him and I STILL don't even know what YOU and Jasper did. I don't need to have my boyfriend harassing him to make things worse, no matter how noble your intentions, my love." She must've seen some kind of mutinous or scheming look on Em's face because she quickly snapped out her ultimatum, stating, "I mean it, Emmett Roland Cullen! I swear, I will deny you sex for a friggin week if you make this worse for me, even if you are only trying to protect me. You already flirted with trouble by going behind my back to try to take care of my problem for me. Remember feminism, dear, and that the woman you love is a staunch advocate; you've gotta let me handle this my way."

She must've been dropping her bag and keys on my desk during her spiel because I heard soft thumps and clinks accompanying her words before I felt my bed depress a bit as she rolled in on the other side of Emmett. "Now, enough about the Asshole, he's already had way more of my time than he deserves. How's my baby sister?" she asked. In response, I opened my eyes and cut off Emmett's hushed reply by reaching across the chest of his t-shirt to grab my sister's hand and squeeze it reassuringly. "Baby my ass!" I teased her quietly, "I'm pretty sure the fact that I'm old enough to legally have a hangover disproves your 'baby' statement." She let out a small chuckle, saying, "Just because your fake ID makes you old enough to drink with the rest of us does not change the fact that you're the baby of the group, brat." Emmett let an arm settle on each of our shoulders, interrupting our lighthearted teasing with "Well, Ladies, now that you're both awake and I have the pleasure of being in bed with two lovely women…" at which point he trailed off suggestively. Rosie and I both started laughing, then let out simultaneous "Ew! Pervert!" exclamations and used our clasped hands to give him a solid rap on the chest in reproof. "Geez, tough crowd! I was just joking!" Emmett responded, "I've got my hands full with Rosie as it is…pun intended." Oy vey, and double EW! I rolled my eyes and released a long-suffering sigh to let them both know how I felt about that pun, before sticking my tongue out at the pair of them. Some things a younger sister is just better off not knowing or thinking about, like EVER.

I then released my sister's hand after a final squeeze and after pressing a kiss of thanks to Em's cheek, I rolled out of bed to use the facilities. Sheesh my body was sore, with a notable throbbing in my knees and some radiating pain my lower back but thank God my debilitating headache seemed to be gone! Added to that, my body felt unnaturally heavy and I had a sneaking suspicion that my already crappy balance might've taken the day off. Note to self: I'm about 150% sure that hangovers and I are not ever going to be friends, and I didn't want to experience another one anytime soon! Icky!

In the bathroom, I noticed that both of my knees and shins bore quite a couple of bruises. Awesome! I'd just bet that I'd taken a couple spills while inebriated. I then turned around and lifted up my t-shirt while looking in the mirror to ascertain why my lower back hurt, of all things. I found myself turning slightly more in the mirror, and my eyes narrowing as I saw... "Oh my God, is that…?" As soon as it registered, I let out a loud, "what the hell IS that?!" I instantly used the hand not holding up my t-shirt to inspect further as, right there on my lower back was what looked a hell of a lot like a friggin tattoo! I was so preoccupied that I completely missed the storm of whispers erupt from the direction of my room down the hall.

What the HELL happened last night?!

I was gathering in breath to yell for Rosie and Emmett to come explain when the actual details struck me. My…*deep breath*…my tattoo was of two smallish wings on my lower back, smack dab in tramp stamp territory which, oddly I thought looked rather sexy instead of trashy. What struck me, however, was that the wings didn't match. There was one that was white on the right that looked like the usual wing with feathers and was pretty in its dainty simplicity. The one on the left, though, was completely different. While the right wing looked rather feminine, the wing on the left definitely looked masculine. It was black and the wing lacked feathers, instead being made up completely of tribal-like lines in the shape of a wing; and that was when it hit me. My tattoo was a set of wings, but was a spin on the usual angel wings you see in tattoos. Angel wings as in Angel, or what Gunny called me, and one Angel wing and one masculine, dark wing which I'd obviously meant to represent Gunny.

As if it had never been there, all my panic seemed to just wash out of me with that thought. It didn't matter that I didn't remember last night, or that somehow I'd come out of it with a permanent reminder of the evening. It didn't even matter that I didn't remember picking out my tattoo. All that mattered was that it was right, my tattoo felt right and any remaining jagged edges of loss smoothed away with my panic leaving. Now I'd always have my friend with me watching my back and I'd finally been able to give him his own hero tribute that he couldn't argue his way out of. I looked up at my reflection in the mirror and saw my feelings displayed there for all to see: my eyes had a poignant and slightly sad sheen to them while my mouth was quirked up in the barest of satisfied, amused grins. My tattoo was perfect, and I hugged myself as that knowledge soothed me to my very soul.

I heard our front door open and listened to the voices of Ali, La, and Jasper as they all trooped in speaking in hushed tones, presumably to not wake me if I was still sleeping. I walked out of the bathroom with that same look on my face, going into the living room to meet them. La saw me first, and I watched as the look of quiet concern on her face changed to one of satisfaction as she read my features. She said simply, "You know, and you're ok", and pulled me into a tight hug. It was then I guessed that she had somehow been the one that helped me get my tattoo, and as we hugged I brought my mouth down level with her ear and breathed out a quiet, "Yes, I do. Thank you La." We gave an extra squeeze and then released each other, though I left my arm across her shoulders as I stood next to her. As Rosie and Ems filed in from the hallway, I noted that Ali and Jasper still looked concerned for me, but I was more struck by them holding hands. Interesting! "Ok, everyone," I found myself announcing, "take a seat, I'm calling a family meeting. Time to tell Bella what all she missed last night, as I can't remember anything past a piggyback ride into The Wildcat."

***A/N: Well, there's never a boring minute for our group, is there? Lol. So, originally this was supposed to be the end of the chapter, but I had a problem with that for a couple reasons: 1) I've been hinting at Bella's drunken evening but have kept it from ya'll for two chapters now. Not intentionally, as I find that the more I write the more new things pop into my head that demand to be included. However, even I'm becoming impatient for the details, especially seeing as our favorite Jelly Belly came out of it with her first tattoo and Ali and Jasper emerged holding hands. I'm just as anxious as you to hear all the juicy little details! 2) This isn't just a story about Bella and Edward like some other fanfics, this is a story about the group and as such I wanted to take the time to explore the relationships and interactions of everybody. I know that this tactic seems to draw things out a bit, but I also feel that the little peeks into the other relationships and other POVs help bring all characters to life; and honestly, I just love exploring how each character would react to a situation, and showing sides of them we might not expect. 3) And finally, I just want Edward in the darn fic already! It's almost chapter 10, it's more than time don't 'cha think? So…*drum roll please*… there will be a Ch. 9 Part Deux, despite all of the schoolwork I should be doing today. Lol. So! Thanks again for everyone's patience, please please review as it drives me to update and take time out of my craziness to have fun with this story, and I will see y'all in the next chapter! **

**~Lovingly yours, Starryeyedauthor**

**Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns all things Twilight; I just enjoy playing with her characters and putting them out of their comfort zones. ;)**


	10. Chapter 9 part Deux

**Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns all things Twilight; I just enjoy playing with her characters and pulling them out of their comfort zones. ;)**

_CHAPTER 9: PART DEUX_

_Previously…_

_Bella's POV_

_"Ok, everyone," I found myself announcing, "take a seat, I'm calling a family meeting. Time to tell Bella what she missed last night, as things seem to get fuzzy past a piggyback ride into The Wildcat."_

Rose's POV

My little sister still looked a bit worse for wear, but the major hurdle of her discovering she had gotten a tattoo while drunk had been jumped so I figured I might as well dive in. Our little group of Ems, Ali, Jas, myself, and Bella's –admittedly pretty cool- friend Angela had taken up various sitting positions in the living room. I saw that it didn't escape Bell's notice that while I was perched in Emmett's lap (a usual occurrence), Ali and Jasper were sitting next to each other with Jasper's arm slung over the back of the couch, spanning where Ali was seated. After shooting a glance at Ali, I took a deep breath and began.

*flashback*

After watching my boyfriend cart my sister out of our apartment and into his truck, Ali and I clambered into Jasper's kick ass, restored black '67 Chevy Impala. As Jas drove us behind Emmet's truck he took a moment to fill us girls in on "Plan B". Basically, during their shifts at work Emmett and Jasper had decided that repression was not the way to help Bella. They'd opted to be proponents of the 'get drunk, air out your shit, then build a bridge to start getting over it' school of thought. Ali took that moment to interject that while Jasper obviously meant well, "You aren't a girl, and we have known Isabella longer, Jazz"; softening her words with a hand lightly placed over his right hand, which was on the seat between them in the front. They both seemed a little startled at the contact, with Ali looking like she hadn't consciously touched him, but neither removed their hands. Hmm. Verrryyy interesting. I decided to file that away (again), as I could only handle one crisis at a time.

"You know what, Ali?", I chimed in dryly from the backseat, "We might as well give the guy's plan a try. Our plan to wait her out in the hopes she'd eventually come to us pretty much crashed and burned. She's already hurting, and we are all hurting for her." I paused a moment, as the next words were going to burn my throat a bit coming out. "Fuck it. Maybe they are right." Ali shot me a small smile in recognition of my blatant dislike of anything to do with possibly being wrong, coupled with a little head nod of affirmation. Jasper shot me a look in the rearview mirror of optimism, and I was shocked to see him actually squeeze Ali's hand as if in comfort and to offer support. Wait, what? What happened to him being cordial, funny, and cautiously physically distant from her?! I might need to deal with that a bit sooner than I intended. Instead, I opened my door and got out of the car as I realized we had reached our destination and parked. The calming vibe Jasper had managed to create in the car started to leave me a bit as I watched the man I loved giving my baby sis a piggyback over to the group. While I was encouraged that my man had managed to coax a genuine smile and laugh out of her, I was still filled with the very disturbing concern that we might be trying to be bringing back a sweet, naïve Bell that no longer wholly existed.

Ali, ever our little clairvoyant, chose that moment to jar me out of my dreary thoughts by jumping onto my back and loudly declaring we were in a race. Bless her, she was pulling me out of my own head, and with a deep breath I loudly exclaimed, "Betcha can't catch us!" Jasper smiled as I took off with Ali on my back in a mad bid to beat Emmett and my sister to the door of The Wildcat, ambling along behind us and shaking his head in the amused way parents have when seeing childish behavior. The hell with it, the guys were in baggy sweats and tees, with us girls in pajama pants and shirts/sweatshirts. I knew that a dignified entrance wasn't really an option…so I settled for the next best thing: beating my boyfriend. Thank goodness it was a week night and there weren't many patrons, as I cleared the door of the bar loudly exclaiming, "HA! Victory!", while Ali giggled madly, barely getting out "Loser buys the first round!"

Emmett came in right on my heels, with Bells on his back yelling, "Cheaters! Re-match!" Welp, definitely a no on the dignified entrance then, but hey, we're memorable! Emmy walked ahead of me to deposit Bella in a corner booth at the back of the establishment, and I followed before having Ali clamber - with more speed than grace - off my back to sit next to Bell. I turned around and grabbed Emmett as he started to move past me towards the bar, proceeding to simultaneously lift up onto my toes while gently pulling his head down until his lips met mine. My whole family was competitive by nature, and the little high from winning was something I relished but… my M&M ranked higher. I kissed him until the butterflies in my stomach had moved to settle in a warm blanket near my heart before letting him go, both of us smiling. "Now, we demand drinks Persephone!", I teased him, calling him by the feminine name that we'd heard Bell taunt him with in the parking lot. His face quickly morphed into a squinty-eyed promise of trouble for me if I addressed him like that again, before he chuckled good naturedly and gave me a jaunty bow while murmuring, "As you wish, my lady fair." I felt my smile widen and I shot him a wink before turning back to my girls, though not quickly enough to avoid the playful smack on my ass. I shot him a sexy smirk over my shoulder and then sat down on Bell's other side.

By this time, Jasper had come in and had commandeered a corner of the long wooden bar. It ran the length of one of the straight sides of the "U" shape that comprised the interior of the bar/club. As Emmett took himself off to go help Jasper, presumably with alcoholic beverages of some kind, I took the time to properly survey my surroundings. Another local term for The Wildcat is The Red Room, and it certainly lived up to the moniker. The walls were covered in a red, velvety material except for the long mirror behind the bar. Furthermore, each booth was red leather, with little circular and rectangular black tables set up at each little seating area; the red lighting just completed the look. The dance floor part of the club accounted for the curve and some of the other side of the "U" shape, with a VIP seating area in the upper back corner of the other straight side of the "U". Two hallways branched off the curved section, presumably leading to bathrooms and possibly outside but I'd explore that later. With some popular hip-hop song coming through the speakers, I surmised the atmosphere to be laid back and casually fun; eschewing even the pretense of snobbery or sophistication that seemed to permeate some of Santa Barbara's culture due to its many rich inhabitants. I decided that I liked it on the spot, with it seemingly perfectly content to be just what it was: a fun, neighborhood bar that you could come into to relax with your friends or come in dressed to the nines and party your face off.

As I had been examining my surroundings, I had met the eyes of the couple inhabitants around us. I gave them small smiles with curt nods, acknowledging that I saw them but unwilling to invite anyone into our party as, 1) we were on a mission and Bell didn't need distractions, 2) all of us girls were essentially in pajamas and I didn't want to field questions as to my attire, and 3) I didn't want to give anyone the impression we were trolling for guys, as I was very happily taken. Emmett had set us up in an awesome half-circle booth in the corner that had a view of both the bar and the dance floor, so in the absence of Bell or Ali piping up with a convo starter I settled in to blatantly ogle my man, with my hand clasped in Bell's on the tabletop in the mirror image of Ali and Bell's hands.

Alice's POV

I looked at Bella, sitting next to me and seemingly staring off into space, obviously deep in thought. Well that's no help! I looked past her towards Rose, hoping to get a conversation started with her but I found her blatantly ogling my brother…again. Yuck, again. Alrighty then! Welp, if neither of my companions were feeling chatty, then I decided I was going to practice some uncharacteristic restraint of my own. I squeezed Bell's hand that I was holding to remind her I was there when she needed me, and then settled back in my seat while directing my eyes toward the bar to enjoy my own eye candy.

The minute I saw him again, I felt like I had been rubbing my sock-covered feet against the living room carpet again like I used to do as a child. You know that…that kind of tingly, electric awareness that causes your hair to stand up? I got that, but it was all excitement, coupled with an undercurrent of knowing. It has been commented on to death by my friends and family about my 'sixth sense', which I often unconsciously tap into for painting inspiration, but for me it wasn't so much remarkable as just another part of me; much like my eye color. Sometimes I got feelings about things and people, which I invariably followed, so I figured out years ago, why fight it? Jasper was mine. As much as the deep feeling of conviction I felt with that thought scared me, it also comforted me. It was as if I had been playing hide 'n' seek with my life without knowing it, only to turn a corner and see him with that instant kind of "There you are!" recognition. What I was currently puzzling over, while enjoying the view of Jasper mixing up drinks with his biceps on display for my eager gaze, was where we were in my whole 'Happily Ever After' plan.

Since I was convinced that Jasper was my 'one', much like Emmett is for Rose, I had been trying to figure out how to get Jasper to even see me in a romantic light! Sheesh! I mean, I am pretty freaking awesome! While I am usually described as somewhat "pixie-ish" due to my build and stature, I have been complimented many times on my attractiveness which I show off to best advantage with my killer fashion sense, of course. Speaking of fashion sense…*shudder*…nope! Better not even go there. I am in pajamas in public, dwelling on it will only make it worse. Focus! Right. Awesome…specifically, my general awesomeness. How am I supposed to get my prince for my Happily Ever After if he won't even touch me or interact with me?! I mean sure, he's always been friendly and polite but ever since that first day we met he's held back with me. With the others he is seemingly completely open, but he is always careful not to make any inappropriate references or comments around me - even in jest – and while he casually touches the others with hugs, handshakes, an arm around the shoulders, etc. I have somehow been banished to physical Siberia! Now I ask you, how the hell is THAT fair?! How is my prince supposed to sweep me off my feet if I can barely engage him in conversation, much less get him to touch me?! Gah. It's so damn frustrating. As I travelled the same mental paths I had been going in circles over lately, I felt a smile tug up the corner of my mouth until it covered my face. He. Had. Touched. ME! Okay, well to be more accurate, I touched him without even thinking about it but HE DIDN'T PULL AWAY! *cue internal squeal* Then. He. Squeezed. My. Hand. In. His. Be still my heart! *sigh* I watched as Jas finished up the several drinks he was making, and started loading up two serving trays, while I tried to figure out what had spurred this change in him. I had flirted and gotten nowhere. I had dazzled with my cooking and gotten nowhere. I had dressed to the nines and gotten nowhere. For cryin' out loud, I had bummed it in loose boxer shorts (okay, so they were gray lace-y ones, but hey! I love my fashion) and a big tee while suffering through my period on the couch…nothin. So what on Earth was it? What had caused this very welcome, and much awaited/hoped for change? As the guys came back to our booth, each carrying a loaded down tray, I determined I would get to the bottom of this tonight…one way or another.

One way or another ended up dovetailing nicely with the guy's "Plan B", coincidentally. After a couple hours, during which we had the presence of mind to call Angela to come meet us, we females were pretty buzzed. No, we were drunk and fast approaching trashed. The guys were matching us drink for drink and shot for shot but as they were larger, we were at a sad disadvantage. Originally, I'd worried about the guys drinking too, but they arranged for coworkers to drive us all home in the guys respective cars in exchanged for cab fair to their places after delivering all of us and the vehicles home safely. Pretty darn smart, and since alcohol took away any filter I may have had, I was sure to inform them of that. We were a couple hours in, definitely large quantities of alcohol in, the music was bumping, and I had Jasper sitting right next to me; so, basically, my new definition of heaven. To be completely honest, I knew we were there for Bella but I was really not looking forward to the mood being sobered. But! We knew it needed to happen, and happen it did.

We ladies had all gotten up to go to the restroom, telling the guys we would meet them out on the back porch to get some air after our bathroom break. After utilizing the facilities, all of us girls were crowded by the vanity with some washing hands and others making small tweaks/fixes to hair and make-up when all of a sudden I heard a bizarre sound. I looked over from my position at the sink to see Bell suddenly throw back her head and start howling with laughter. I threw concerned glances at the other girls before crossing the short distance between us to put my hand on her shoulder, trying to figure out what was going on.

"Um…sweetie?" I ventured. Bell continued to laugh, laughing so hard that her eyes started tearing from mirth. I looked at the other girls and shrugged, but shot them 'Help!' looks. Maybe we should've just gotten only Bell drunk because I wasn't processing what was going on. Rose came over to Bell's other side and placed a hand on her other shoulder while Angela rubbed her back. Finally, Bella was able to stop laughing long enough to talk. "I just…*giggle*…Gunny gave me…*haha* he used to give me such SHIT for being a goody….*snort* goody-goody girl. He was always after me to…*giggle* 'let loose' ", she tried to explain. "It's just…it's just so damn IRONIC…*snicker*…I am taking his advice, but…but I had to lose him to push me to it! Plus, all this…this WONDERFUL *giggle* acohol…this "letting loose"…how could he have known that this was going to help me?" By the end of the sentence, her giggles had dried up, and she looked at us all around her in the mirror. A single tear trickled out of the corner of her eye and down her cheek. "God, I miss him guys. He would've gotten such a kick out of tonight, and I would've loved to share it with him." As if choreographed, each of us leaned in at the same time to surround her in a massive group hug. I knew Rose wasn't really good with the whole emotional outburst stuff and whatnot, so I mentally tugged on my big girl panties and wadded in to the emotional tumult.

"Isabella, my love, it is okay to miss him. It is okay to miss someone who became such a large part of your life. Y'all would talk every day or every other day for hours! You are such a giving person that you couldn't help but to want to help him. But, sweetheart,… some people just aren't ours to save no matter how much we may want to. So cry if you need to, laugh if you want, yell, go out and dance till your legs can't take anymore…just continue living your life. Because-and this is important love-he would want that for you just as you will continue to wish only the best for him." I finished on a whisper, trying to convey, although definitely impaired, the strength of my conviction that she needed to accept that there would never be closure; that despite that lack, she needed to find her peace with it so she could move on.

Thank God, at least some of what I had said must've reached her because she sagged a little into our huddle. "I'm so tired", she whispered in a sad, broken little voice that reached inside me and broke my heart. "Oh babygirl", I cooed to her, "then let go for awhile. We've got you, ok?" I met Rose and Angela's eyes and each nodded their agreement. After a few minutes and with a couple of steadying breaths in and out, Bella straightened again but there was a marked difference. Our girl no longer carried herself stiffly like she had been while trying to pretend everything was okay, or even worse, like when she would hug herself when she thought we couldn't see, as if she felt she needed to try to hold everything in. Looking back at me in the mirror was our Jelly Belly, but her eyes reminded me of the little girl I met in 3rd grade. The little girl that hurt inside, but this time I couldn't fix it with a hair tie and some clever babble about a new fashion trend. This had marked our Bella, and we could all see it. More importantly, she was letting us all see it instead of trying to deal with it by herself; it gave me hope. After a few more hug squeezes, we broke apart and then waited to see what she would do next.

With a somewhat sardonic smile, Bell looked at her red and blotchy face in the mirror. She looked to the rest of us, who all sported similar looks, and chuckled drily before proclaiming, "I know that we are all in pajamas – thanks La for coming in yours for solidarity – but are y'all really gonna let any of us walk out into a bar looking like this?" She…she's teasing us. My own eyes filled as I caught a glimpse of the friend who I had been without for so long. Through my tears, I tried to push out a business-like, "Of course not!", but it came out as more of a croak. We spent the next five minutes beautifying (thank you fashion deities for emergency make-up kits!), and then after declaring that we were the best we could get, we made our way to the patio to meet the guys. Once out there, us girls watched as Bell hugged each of our two guys in turn while murmuring thank you's. All the girls then slid into the booth, and after casting mischievous looks at each other, demanded in four person surround sound, "SHOTS!" We of course then ruined the impressiveness of our simultaneous declaration by all of us collapse into giggles at the incredulity on Em and Jasper's faces. For my part, I also giggled a little in relief that we had finally broken through. Finally.

***A/N: FINALLY, indeed! I'm finally publishing some new chapters, and yes that's plural. I've been writing these and had them on my computer, adding to them little by little when I've had time/could steal time from Nursing school. Let me know what you think of this one or the story in general or just throw some general encouragement my way. I appreciate everyone's understanding and patience!**

**~Lovingly yours, Starryeyedauthor**


	11. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns all things Twilight; I just enjoy playing with her characters and pulling them out of their comfort zones. ;)**

CHAPTER 10

_Previously…_

_All the girls then slid into the booth, and after casting mischievous looks at each other, demanded in four person surround sound, "SHOTS!" We of course then ruined the impressiveness of our simultaneous declaration by all of us collapse into giggles at the incredulity on Em and Jasper's faces. For my part, I also giggled a little in relief that we had finally broken through. Finally._

Angela's POV

I had an idea. I'd been thinking about it for awhile now, but most especially all night and, since I was inebriated due to Jasper's devastatingly effective cocktail concoctions, instead of considering whether to share or not I found myself blurting out: "Estrella…what about a tattoo?" I swear it was like watching the Exorcist, as everyone's head at the table swiveled my way in sync and at a shocking speed. Well shit. Guess I really stepped in it now, might as well finish the thought. "Look, hear me out. I am usually never a proponent of making permanent decisions while inebriated. But Bella said something to me the other day that got me to thinking about it. She said exactly what I did when my family member died. She told me about how she always wanted to remember what …what HE taught her, both about herself and about life." I took a deep breath, then finished with, "That was the same sentiment that led to me getting my tattoo of a star and moon on the back of my neck…in memory and in tribute. I mean, I understand that …that HE didn't die, that we know of… it could just be a tribute and closure thing." They all continued to stare at me with wide eyes. "You know what…nevermind…bad idea…my ba…" I started to backpedal, when Bells interrupted me with, "It's perfect."

Bella's POV (which she doesn't really remember)

It was absolutely perfect. Immediately my family set in, explaining why it was a bad idea and that I'd have it forever…etc. They didn't get it. I had been wanting to do something and what La said encapsulated my thoughts perfectly. It was happening. I didn't care if I had to wait a stupid 24 hours to sober out and prove to everyone it wasn't a rash decision. I felt those few pieces of my heart out of place shift a little more towards the rest of the whole. This was right, and it was happening. It must've shown somehow, because as I looked at my person, my other half, Rose looked right back at me dead on and then softly said, "Shit. SHIT! REALLY?! Our parents are going to kill you, and then kill ME for letting you!? Friggen really?" I opened my mouth to answer her, to try and explain feelings that couldn't be explained, when she reached over and grabbed my hand again. My sister isn't super demonstrative, and it spoke to how much she loves me that she continued with the supportive touches this whole night. She squeezed my hand and, somehow...some way…my sister got it, or at least got that I felt that I needed it. I shot her a full, calm smile only to hear Alice behind me chime in, "Well fuck. It would seem we need to find the best damn tattoo shop around…that is open at 1am." I shot her another smile over my shoulder, not at all surprised by her little clairvoyant moment, since my exchange with Rose had all been facing away from her. Emmett and Jasper looked at us girls like we had lost our damn minds, which I really can't blame them for as in the last half hour I'd had a massive emotional break through AND had just decided I was getting a tattoo after weeks of blank nothingness in my attempts to internalize. Thankfully, our little girl cry session in the bathroom had sobered us up to the point that I was able to make a decision while mostly in control of my faculties.

La offered to call the guy who did her tattoo to see if he was still open and willing to take a last minute appointment. I sent it out to the universe, telling myself that if it was meant to be then it would be. In the mean time, Ali, Rose, and Em were all gulping shots to restore buzzes because they all declared they "needed to at least be able to somewhat claim to our two sets of parents that we were too inebriated to stop you, even though we tried". Personally, I think they just needed some alcohol because they couldn't believe that they were agreeing to it…heck, I couldn't really believe they weren't putting up a bigger fuss. To stay in the spirit of things, I joined in, though I drank slightly more conservatively as I didn't want to be unable to control my body while being permanently marked. La walked backed to our table from the corner with a smile, and that was it. The guys paid our (massive, albeit heavily discounted) tab, then gave money and car keys to their coworkers so that their vehicles would be home when they woke up in the morning. We then all piled in a cab and went to the tattoo shop. After meeting with the artist, and a good 20 min argument about whether I thoroughly understood what I was undertaking, I was tattooed. We collaborated on a simple, edgy yet elegant design and I put it on my back because then my friend would always have my back. It was perfect and…maybe it was the alcohol talking, but it also turned out a little sexy. And that was just fine too.

Alice POV

We were at a Tattoo Shop. A huge, hulking biker guy with a salt n pepper handlebar mustache, twinkling blue Santa Claus eyes, and an impressive leather vest coupled with blue jeans that had seen better days – he informed me his vest was a "cut" when I asked if I could buy one somewhere, denoting his association with his motorcycle club - who looked like he ate girls like us for breakfast, was bent over the small of Bella's back. Permanently. Inking. Her. For Pete's sake, his name was TACK! How is any of this normal or alright?! It had to be hurting at least a little, but Bell just had this calm, almost serene expression on her face. I was the one freaking out and I wasn't even the one getting the damn thing! Gah! I needed to pace and take my hectic emotions elsewhere, so I stood up and marched my ass outside to pace up and down the sidewalk; arguably, like a crazy person. To sell it even more, I was muttering little phrases out loud to myself, convinced that Bella's parents were going to kill her and us by extension. Then, if by some miracle we survived that, MY parents would kill me. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU…dge. I felt the air whoosh out of my lungs as I felt a hand touch my shoulder and my system instantly calmed.

I felt myself being gently guided by the hand on my shoulder, the hand that I knew was Jasper's hand from just his touch, as I was backed up until my back was lightly pressed against the brick façade of the Tattoo Shop. I looked up into Jasper's warm honey-brown eyes, and watched him watching me for a minute. When he didn't say anything after awhile and just continued to stare at me, I grew impatient again. "Jasper, what?" I gritted out. I watched a smile start in his eyes and then grace his mouth, before he answered with a simplistic and childish, "I like you. You're pretty." As the fingers of his other hand fingered the ends of my hair in apparent wonder, I took a mental step back. Okay. He's touching me after not touching me for so…effing … LONG. *delicious shiver* Ugh. No. Focus. Okay, he's touching me, he's sharing, he's being open with me…either he has finally decided to remove my banishment to physical Siberia or… "Um, Jasper," I ventured slowly, "are you...drunk?" I watched as my handsome man, still smiling at me and playing with my hair with his other hand on my shoulder, gave me a slow nod in the affirmative.

Erm. Mmkayyyy. I was flummoxed. "But, honey, I thought you didn't like me! You barely talk to me, refuse to be in a room alone with me, and you haven't touched me even casually since the first day we met! You are expecting me to believe that you all of a sudden like me?" I managed to stutter out. Then another thought occurred to me and my blood started to boil. "Jasper. Warrington. the THIRD. Are you trying to be charming all of a sudden because you think it'll get. you. LAID?" I all but whisper-yelled. I was furious. How DARE he!? I had been waiting for my Prince Charming since I was 6, then when I found him not only did it blindside me, but he seemed repelled by me! Then, to fucking cap it all, he is finally touching me, but only because he is drunk and is trying to get in my pants! W.T.F. ?! I was done.

I threw my head up and whisper yelled to the night sky, "Did I pee in someone's cheerios or something as a child?! Was I a grave robber or something heinous like a devoted wearer of hemp in a past life to offend you so? Lord, this is just mean. I can't handle this, I just can't right now. My little big sister has a sad broken look in her eyes that I am terrified will always be there, my school classes are kicking my butt, and the man that is supposed to be mine is acting like THIS?! Come! ON! Wh….*mmm*". I stopped thinking. My whole train of thought crashed to a halt and vanished. All I could do was feel. Holy. Shit. Holy. Five. Alarm. Shit. He's kissing me. He's kissing ME. Jasper is kissing me and I feel…no. NO. NO! I somehow managed to push him enough to put a little space between us, probably because he's a gentleman and rocked back a bit when he felt my hands ineffectually trying to push him.

I looked into the face of the man that I was completely, wholly, inexplicably, and irrevocably in love with…and I burst into tears. This was all WRONG! This wasn't how my dream Prince acted. When I was little and imagining my perfect Prince, I would never had imagined that after months of not touching me he would suddenly come on to me just to get laid and furthermore, he would waste our first kiss in the pursuit of an effing hook-up. This was all wrong, and my heart couldn't take it.

Jasper's POV

Shite. Shite shite SHITE! What the HELL'm I doin'?! I made her cry. Somehow, after everything, I managed to make the one person I would walk through hell barefoot for, cry. Christ, I am such an ASS! "Sugar, please stop cryin'! Please, just…Aw HELL! C'mere ." I couldn't stand the thought of her crying. I couldn't. Each droplet of moisture trickling out of her beautiful, bedroom eyes tore at me. I leaned down and picked her up bridal-style, cradling her to me. Her little arms immediately hooked around my neck and she buried her face in my shirt. "Ah, ma cherie, what you do to me," I murmured in her ear. "Please don't cry. I am undone woman. Tell me what to do to make you smile at me again". After what felt like an eternity but was probably only a couple minutes, she subsided to sniffling. The shock of seeing her so upset worked far better than a cold shower in both "cooling my jets", so to speak, and in getting me mostly sobered up. I, at least, had the presence of mind to pull the handkerchief out of my pocket to offer it to her. My inner Southern Gentleman was horrified that I had made a lady cry, and my guilt was compounded that I'd made someone so precious cry through my own stupidity. Then…it fell horribly, eerily quiet. As the silence drug on, I felt her little body slowly tensing again like she was preparing to push away. No. Impossible. I denied myself this for months, I can't let her go so quickly! I opened my mouth and words came out in a frantic, garbled rush.

"Please…please don't move. I like holding you like this. Please don't ask me to let you go after I finally have you in my arms. I like just being around you. I haven't avoided touching you because I didn't like you. I've avoided touching you because you're one of a kind and because I promised! I'm certain there is no one better, or more suited for me. Other girls don't even exist when you're around, and when you aren't around all I can think about it you. I felt something the minute you opened the door and you looked so adorable in these paint splattered clothes that were way too big for you with your glasses perched on your nose. I felt too much, way too fast. I didn't know how to process it all. I didn't know how to deal with needing to have you in my arms before I even heard you speak your name. I just..you..blast it all! You twist me up in knots and you have no idea. And now I've probably ruined it even more by freaking you out by blurting out all this stuff. Fuck!" I suddenly found myself wondering why I was babbling like the village idiot but I couldn't seem to stop. I tried to project my feelings of sincerity towards her, hoping she knew that I meant what I was saying even though it made no sense.

Alice seemed to understand what I was feeling, and somehow knew exactly how to calm my panic. She released one of her hands from where they were clasped around the neck of my shirt and tentatively laid her hand feather-light against my cheek. Instantly, the skin to skin contact had me feeling like I could take my first full breath in months. God how I missed her skin touching mine! I barely stopped a moan of relief from escaping me – hey, a man has to maintain SOME pride – and the air around us lightened considerably. I walked to a nearby bench-not because my precious bundle was heavy, because I could hold her for hours-but because I wanted to see her face. I sat down, but made no effort to move her from my lap or her position. She slowly leaned back against my arm until our eyes met. They were wide with…wonder? Shock? I couldn't tell, so I opened my mouth again to try to reassure her that I didn't expect anything. Her hand on my cheek became a finger laid against my lips to silence me. Damn. Well, if I can't explain then…

I opened my mouth slightly and gave her slender little finger a playful nip, then soothed it with my tongue and kissed it better. I watched in awe as her eyes went a little unfocused and cloudy. Could she…does she…? My inner musings were interrupted by her whispering, "Wow…" out on a whoosh of air. Automatically, I felt my mouth pull into a lazy, masculine grin of satisfaction in response. There's my girl.

She seemed to collect herself and shot me a look of consternation, which backfired on her as my smile widened more in amusement at her attempted chiding. She sat up a bit straighter, but I took comfort in the fact that her hands went back to being laced around my neck. "Alright, so let me see if I can make sense of …all of that", she says with a wave of her hand in the air. She can do whatever she wants, just as long as I can hold her in my arms and she gives me another chance to earn that cloudy eyed, unfocused look of lust again. I felt her hand dart up into my hair and give it a light tug to get me to look at her again, but her efforts were just turning me on again. That low moan actually escaped this time, as I turned my head where her hands were directing me. As our eyes met, she giggled a bit. "We REALLY should not be having this conversation while inebriated, obviously", she stated and while I agreed, I wasn't letting her go so we could talk about this tomorrow. I tightened my hold a bit to bring her even closer, worried she'd push me away again. "Honey", I heard whispered in my ear, her words somehow a sensual tickle "I love you holding me too, but we can't talk like this." Fine! She wants to talk so much and ruin my moment, then we'll talk. I let her go only enough for her to sit upright again within my embrace, before turning mutinous eyes to meet hers. What?! I'm inebriated, this is MY girl, I have been waiting to have her for a FUCK long time…and yes, I'm pouting a bit.

I tuned in to what she was saying. "Honey, why all this now? If you've been wanting to touch me and think I'm perfect for you…and what else did you…oh yeah, and there's something about a promise? Huh?" Damn. She's right, we really should talk about this while not inebriated. Her train of thought is just about as random as my own. "Sugar, we really should talk about this tomorrow. But, the important parts are that I do like you. A lot, actually. I haven't touched you because I promised Emmett I wouldn't. Remember when we went to go look at our apartment together, and we were cool when we came back? We had a "man talk" as Emmett called it. We literally had the apartment deal figured out in five minutes, so the rest of the time was spent talking about…you." I took a deep breath before continuing, figuring it'd be better if I just ripped it off like a band-aid. "As I said, I had feelings for you almost instantly. Your brother saw that and gave me the expected talk about not messing with his little sister. Basically, he had me promise that I wouldn't touch you or try to encourage you or influence you in any way. He told me that since there were already feelings on my side, the only fair thing to you would be to let you come to me in your own time, if that was what you wanted." I was actually pretty impressed with my ability to get that all out and have it make sense. Alice had an adorable little frown on, as it seemed like she was thinking through things in retrospect. "Well, first off my brother was way out of line and I'm going to be having my own "man talk" with him. But…oh! I touched your hand in the car tonight! Was that what you interpreted as me coming to you?" she finished. I felt myself chuckle a bit and I replied, "Sugar, I'm so far gone for you that I would've taken your fingers brushing mine while you passed a condiment as a green light. You actually almost holding my hand was icing on the cake." She giggled too, before growing serious once more.

"So…you like me? Like… a lot?" She queried. I gave her a look that did nothing to disguise just how much I wanted her. "Oh! So, um…so that's a yes. And you obviously heard the whole 'man is supposed to be mine' portion of my little rant…" she trailed off. I felt my grin comin' on again from hearing her stutter through her words, and I coupled it with a wink. "Right! So um…where does this leave us?" She finished up softly. "Let me...try this again…" I got out as I leaned into her, giving her time to push away if that wasn't what she wanted. I watched the sexiest little smirk form on her mouth and she once again slid her hand into my hair and gave it a little tug. Fuck, she was learning how to turn me on like a damn light switch already. My moan hit her mouth first, before our lips touched in a kiss that rocked my world. There it was, that thing I'd been missing. I tried to ease into things, gentleman-like you understand, but she opened her mouth and that was an invitation I couldn't refuse. As I explored and teased her mouth I felt like I was drowning in the taste of her, all brown sugar and sweet molasses reminding me of my childhood summers makin' sweet tea with my Gran. Cliché though it is, it felt like there was no sweeter way to drown.

Rose POV

"….so, we came out of the tattoo shop and found Ali and Jasper necking on a nearby bench like teenagers. No idea what happened there, to be honest." I shot a look at the two of them, only to be greeted with secret smiles as I watched Jasper's hand on the couch back shift to come to rest on Ali's shoulder and her lean into him a bit. "But, apparently, they are acting couple-y now, so who the heck knows! Then we all jumped in Taxis and took you home. That's pretty much it," I finished.

Ali then spoke up with a quiet, "Um…we are a couple…right honey?" directed to the man next to her, as she slid her hand into Jasper's on her shoulder and laced their fingers. Jas sent her this lazy, satisfied, sexy smile that gave even me a delicious little feminine shiver, and it wasn't even directed at me. He then proceeded to melt my heart more by grabbing her other hand in his and bringing her palm up to his lips for the sweetest kiss, before murmuring, "I will be whatever you want me to be sugar, so if it's a boyfriend you're wanting then I'd be honored." Our little pixie blushed and gave him a look of open adoration, and then Jas turned to Emmett, who was next to me,—and who was openly frowning at this point—before giving him a man-to-man head nod, asking "We good?" Emmett's glance seemed to bore into Jas as if trying to discern something. Apparently he saw what he needed to because, after a glance at his little sister who looked completely blissed out in her own love-world, a wry smile started to surface on Em's face as he replied with a gruff, "Yeah, we're good." I watched this exchange with interest, as Emmett didn't give his blessing to men often or lightly. Sure he'd befriend anyone, but he'd never just let someone into our intimate circle. I knew Jasper was a good guy as I was the one who introduced him to everyone, but I was still apprehensive about this new relationship. However, I trusted my man, so once he made his pronouncement, I squeezed his hand in my acceptance and I received my own tender, hopelessly in love look as a reward. God but I loved this man, and I was so incredibly blessed to have him.

I looked over at La who was smiling at Ali and Jas, before my gaze fell on my own baby sister. She looked…bittersweet, is the only word I can think to place with her face. She was obviously very happy for our new resident couple, but it was coupled with this wistful, defeated longing. My little love had given up on her own happy ever after following her mess of a relationship with Jacob, which is just the first of so many reasons for me to strangle him. The three of us girls had never talked about it, but I knew. That look burned itself into my heart, as I sent a silent wish upward that her man would be coming into her life in the very near future. La caught the tail end of Bella's look also, and threw her arm around Bells in a side-hug, before announcing she was starving. We all laughed and began the inevitable debate about where to go for dinner, all the while not knowing that my wish would be granted far sooner and in a more complex way than I could've ever imagined.

***A/N: Tattoos and southern gentlemen, oh my! Welp, that's another couple that bites the proverbial dust of being single. Perhaps it's catching and some other characters may be succumbing soon…or perhaps they'll be stubborn pains in my arse and do whatever they want! Lol. As always, let me know what you think. Did you like our little Ali and Jasper's 'Come to Jesus' moment where they both 'fessed up? Does Bell's tattoo freak you out? ARE YOU EXCITED FOR EDWARD IN THE NEXT CHAPTER AND A GLIMPSE INTO HIS HEAD?! I've been telling y'all he'll be here for awhile and now…he will be. Meet him in the next chapter. I'll see y'all there!**

**~Lovingly yours, Starryeyedauthor**


	12. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns all things Twilight; I just enjoy playing with her characters and pulling them out of their comfort zones. ;)**

Chapter 11

_Previously…_

_Rose's POV_

_I looked over at La who was smiling at Ali and Jas, before my gaze fell on my own baby sister. She looked…bittersweet, is the only word I can think to place with her face. She was obviously very happy for our new resident couple, but it was coupled with this wistful, defeated longing. My little love had given up on her own happy ever after following her mess of a relationship with Jacob, which is just the first of so many reasons for me to strangle him. The three of us girls had never talked about it, but I knew. That look burned itself into my heart, as I sent a silent wish upward that her man would be coming into her life in the very near future. La caught the tail end of Bella's look also, and threw her arm around Bells in a side-hug, before announcing she was starving. We all laughed and began the inevitable debate about where to go for dinner, all the while not knowing that my wish would be granted far sooner and in a more complex way than I could've ever imagined._

Bella's POV

The days and weeks passed by, in a blur of laughter, teasing, good-natured fights, and times to treasure. Our little family of friends made it through our first hot summer in Santa Barbara, followed swiftly by a beautiful, mild Autumn that bled into a surprisingly even temperature Winter; a welcome change from the snow we all learned to expect from growing up in Washington, but Jasper assured us a winter without snow was par for the course in California. Apparently it took him awhile to adjust as well, him being from the South and all. The guys took off work during us girl's week long college break for Thanksgiving, and we all enjoyed ourselves immensely in our multiple car caravan up to Forks, Washington for the holiday. We had a joint Swan/Cullen Thanksgiving at the Cullen's place, with the welcome addition of one Warrington, who was subject to the requisite grilling from both the Cullen and Swan patriarchs. He won my dad over with an impressive knowledge of fishing and its various accoutrements, while Carlisle was won over gradually throughout the week by the look of quiet, bone-deep contentment that now was fixed on Alice's face whenever her man was around. On Thanksgiving Day, Rose and I took turns on the phone with Mom and her husband Phil, wishing them both a happy holiday, with Jasper up next to "call his kin". All of us females then proceeded to take over the tv for the morning with our tradition of watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade, vying for our favorite floats while sipping my fabulous secret recipe hot cocoa. Esme and I then proceeded to have a blast cooking way too much food, while Alice flitted back and forth between us in the kitchen, and the den which contained Rose and the men watching football.

There was one person who was notably absent, though, the Cullen's adopted older son Edward. Edward was about 5 years older than the rest of us young twenty-somethings, and the Cullens adopted him during the time that Rose and I had been away living with our mother. Edward was…different from the rest of the Cullens. He was about Carlisle's height at 6'1", which meant Emmett still had him by about 2 inches in height. He also was nowhere as brawny as Emmett, though his clothes hinted at a muscled physique. He had this eye catching shock of light brown hair with these gorgeous auburn highlights in the sunlight; the kind of hair color ladies spend hours in a salon chair and thousands of dollars trying to achieve. The first time we met, I instantly had a crush on him, as I was captured in his beautiful ocher brown eyes as he shook my hand in introduction. He was very self contained, and he had this air of mystery about him that was oddly compelling. However, all four times I'd met him (our first introduction, his high school graduation, his birthday, and a Christmas), things never went past simple acquaintances between us. He was always unfailingly polite, but he never joined in on our raucous games/good natured family ribbing, seeming to prefer to keep to himself and read or observe everyone. It didn't really help that he never really seemed a part of the big, boisterous mix of Swan/Cullen family, despite the Cullen's best efforts. There was some obvious attachment there, on both sides, as you couldn't live with the Cullen's and not be attached—in my opinion—but there were very careful boundaries. In fact, we rarely saw him, as he enlisted in the military when he turned 18. From then on, he barely visited his "family", always staying on post during holidays when most other people are on leave to visit family. The last time I'd seen him was Christmas, and it had been a couple years in between visits. I remember the little girl side of me who never got over my first serious crush hoping he'd see how grown-up I was and that he would talk to me for hours, catching up and laughing; per usual, that didn't happen. When we three Swan's went over to the Cullen household for our yearly tradition of opening presents together and spending the day in pajamas, I bought this cute and flattering pj set from Victoria's Secret in the hopes of catching his eye. Once we'd arrived and Esme greeted us at the door, we all gathered in the large family room next to the enormous Christmas tree. Esme loved family and holidays, so she'd gone all out with decorations as usual, and there were homemade cinnamon buns in the oven cooking for breakfast which added a tantalizing aroma to the Hallmark set-up in the living room. Our Dad brought out our presents from home and added them to the collection under the tree. All of us girls were cuddled together haphazardly on the couch, with the Dads on the loveseat with coffee in hand. Emmett sat on the floor with his back to the couch us girls were on, and Edward was in the armchair. Esme did her usual little welcome and Merry Christmas speech, and then started passing out presents to everyone. As she handed me mine, she commented on my pretty forest green satin pjs, saying, "Well doesn't that color just look beautiful on you sweetheart? Edward, isn't that your favorite color?" My eyes looked up hopefully as the object of my affection seemed to actually look at me for the first time all day. His eyes lingered over me with something in them I couldn't discern, before it was gone and he responded as unfailingly polite as ever, " Yes Esme, it is, thank you for remembering. Isabella you look..nice." I remember flushing with pleasure and being on cloud nine, until Emmett opened his big mouth and started teasing me about it. Edward smoothly countered, cutting off the teasing by assuring Emmett that I would have no reason to wear something because of him and that even the suggestion of me liking him in "anything other than a strictly platonic manner was, quite frankly, ridiculous". Yes, I remember those words verbatim. That was the moment my naïve schoolgirl hope shriveled and burned in my chest. Nothing quite like getting your feelings dismissed in front of your entire family and close friends in a tone of blatant disinterest and detached boredom.

I tore my mind from memory lane and brought it back to the present. I was currently chopping the vegetables to go around the turkey in the roasting pan, as Esme was basting said turkey with herbs. "Esme," I ventured, after the song we'd both been singing along to had ended, "is…um…will we be seeing Edward this holiday?" Her hands stilled for a moment before continuing in their task, a reaction I wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't been watching. Alice had confided in Rose and I that Edward's failure to open up to his new family hurt Esme the most, which I could understand as she was the most maternal person I'd ever had the pleasure of meeting. She lived to go to her kids soccer games, be classroom mother, cook homemade from scratch cookies for the class bake-sale (even if you only remembered to tell her the night before), put a band-aid on the hurt, and hug you with that special affection only a mother can give. While I had a wonderful, albeit scatter brained mother myself, Esme still adopted us Swan girls and treated us as if we were her own, filling in the gaps of not having our Mother living near us. Edward treated both Esme and Alice with great care, always offering to help them or trying to care for them in his own way but he never (to my knowledge) let Esme hug him, or anyone else really for that matter, always preferring a handshake.

"No sweetheart, he's deployed right now with his unit in the Middle East somewhere and won't be able to make the holiday. He sends me letters, handwritten if you can believe it, in which he assures me he is well, but I miss him. I wish he could be here…I wish I could see him. A Mom shouldn't go years without seeing her son." She shot me a tremulous look over her shoulder, her deep chocolate brown eyes bright with the sheen of tears, which I think she meant to be a merely disappointed look but instead conveyed that sadness and frustration she felt at the block between her and this man she considered her son, blood-related or not. Almost seeing her in tears broke my heart a little, so I quickly turned up the little kitchen radio and started belting out the song to distract her. I knew better than to bring him up, especially around the holidays; that was bad form on my part. I couldn't seem to help it though. I told myself I didn't care, that he was just a friend of my family's but…whenever I came home, old feelings seemed to throb as if to remind me of their tragic unrequited pain of years ago. I wasn't aware that he was deployed though, I hope he was alright. I sent a quick prayer winging heaven-ward for his safety and safe return home before I had to devote my attention to helping Esme get the bird in the oven for what promised to be a delicious dinner.

Edward's POV

It's fucking Thanksgiving and I am in the effing Sandbox—the Middle-East for all you civilians—and I'm pissed, like shit on a stick and fuck me sideways pissed. Somehow, my unit drew the short straw and while most everyone else got to go to the Chow Hall (think military cafeteria) and have turkey for the holiday, my ass had to wrangle the rest of my squad so we could go do our "randomly assigned" patrol. Hoo-fucking-rah. I walked angrily toward my bunk, my boots rapping out a sharp rhythm as if trying to declare my annoyance to everyone in ear shot. I spotted Wilson on his cot with the laptop that seemed permanently affixed to him, probably Skyping his girl again. For just a second, my mind wondered what it would be like to have a girl waiting for me at home. Someone who would make me laugh, who could make me forget for just a few precious minutes that I wasn't stuck out here rotting in this God-forsaken hellhole…someone who might care if I died, besides my "family". Someone who would let me sink my dick into her warm heat and make everything go away, all the memories that haunted my dreams and the guilt that weighed me down every day. Someone I could get lost in. Someone who I'd actually be able to stand to talk to and have in my bed after sex instead of the stupid bar flies that I would pick up and take home for a pump and dump. I put the brakes on that line of pussy thinkin, reminding myself that there were just some people who deserved happy endings and some men, like me, who just did their best to get those guys home to their loved ones. My squad had lost a couple of guys a week ago to an insurgent planted IED that blew up out of nowhere and I still felt the fucking weight of my failure to save them sitting heavily on my shoulders. Fuck it. Bad mentality. Time to go out again.

"Wilson," I barked out, "how many times do I have to tell you to watch your creepy alien tentacle porn shit where I don't have to see it?!" I watched as Wilson's face went comically wide-eyed before he started stammering to the girl that I could now see on the screen of the computer, as I had stopped at my cot behind his, just out of eyesight from the laptop's camera. I allowed myself a dry chuckle as Wilson tried to assure his girlfriend that he wasn't into kinky shit and I was just giving him a hard time. Fuck but I was a bastard for no reason, and you couldn't get me to admit that I even tolerated the guy, but he was actually pretty useful and loyal to the core; two qualities I'd learned to value in my time out here on deployment. I walked a few steps forward until I was in view of the laptop's camera, and sure as shit, Jessica seemed to focus on me. Wilson might actually be a good guy, but his girl was a total fucking slut bitch, by my shrewd estimation, and I'd fucked enough of them to be able to spot one a mile away. In my opinion, if she wasn't cheating on him already, then she would be soon because females like her craved the power they had over men to lead them around by their dicks. It was disgusting how the dumb bitch would preen and try to flirt with me on the sly, with her guy fucking right next to me, as she was doing now. Wilson, bless his stupid heart, was smitten and ate up whatever attention she deigned to throw his way. It was a train wreck waiting to happen, but it was none of my damn business. I'd already had my 'Come to Jesus' speak with Wilson about it and he continued their "relationship", so according to bro code it was out of my hands. Sure as shit didn't mean that I didn't have to hate the bitch on principle. "Jessica, he's got to go. Sorry not sorry, but maybe you can use this time to go out and buy yourself a shirt that actually covers half your tits!" I simpered out, in a tone I knew she'd take just as insultingly as I meant it, before slamming the laptop closed, the Skype equivalent to hanging up on her. Ha, take that you dumb bitch. Wilson just looked at me with his hurt puppy dog eyes that silently accused me of being a horrible person. Hell, I already knew that, but I did owe him an apology since I had promised to try to be civil after the last time I'd 'accidentally' hung up on her. "Sorry man, she just gets on my fuckin nerves. She's your girl, I promised to try so I will…next time. Now I need you to get your scrawny ass up and round up the rest of the boys, we have patrol." As I gave him our orders in a clipped tone, his eyes went from puppy dog to annoyed before resignation set in. He knew the same as I did that there was no point in bitchin about the inevitable. We were in the military, we weren't paid to think outside the box. We got orders, we followed them, end of discussion. Arguing was futile, whining was career suicide, and brown-nosing was for assholes (pun intended). He trooped out to go inform the rest of the squad and I reached across the space between our cots, tagging the laptop with my swipe. Technically it was mine, a gift from Carlisle and Esme from the last Christmas I went home in the hopes that it would help me keep in touch more, but I knew Esme appreciated my handwritten letters more so I let Wilson borrow it when he needed it. I was having a shit day and there seemed to be only one thing these days that could help level me out, so I went in search of it like a friggin junky jonesing for my fix. I powered the computer back up, logged out of Skype and logged into my email. C'mon, I mentally grouched, c'mon I really need one today, c'monnnnn….hell yeah! I allowed myself a satisfied smirk and a small fist pump as my email registered a new message waiting for me from her.

'She' was Isabella Swan, and she was trouble, with not just a capital 'T' but with the entire damn word in screaming caps, bolded, underlined, and flashing in neon. As fucking stupid and serendipitous—yes, like the damn chick flick—as can be, she up and managed to get herself randomly assigned to be a pen-pal for a guy in my unit. I didn't realize that it was her at the time, nor was I good enough friends with the guy for him to really talk to me about her. Smith wound up getting injured and before he was air-lifted out, he ended up tasking me with telling "his girl" what happened. So I open the letter he pressed into my hand and wouldn't you fuckin know it, it's the girl that I've been avoiding for years. Fuck me. But a promise was a promise, so I sent her the informative email, though the idea of her being Smith's girl back home seemed to burn me from the inside, provoking a feeling that I wasn't going to examine closely. However, in my haste to get my promise fulfilled and over with, I'd signed it with my rank and last name, as we referred to everyone out here by their last names; it cuts down on the confusion of 'which josh did you mean, sir?' You could've knocked me over with a stick when she wrote back as if I was a total stranger to her. As far as I can figure it, maybe the Cullens never shared with her my last name, or that I hadn't adopted their last name when they adopted me. So here I was being a total dick and carrying on with this farce, which I'd originally went along with just for shits and giggles to occupy myself. However, now that a significant number of months had gone by and we were corresponding regularly, I should've manned up and told her by now. But…shit, it's like she's this one ray of sunlight in this fucked up, dark world over here, like she's my little island of normal or what normal would be if I was back home. I was over here getting shot at and having to shoot back, dealing with men getting blown to pieces, guys getting cheated on by girls at home, fathers missing the birth of their children…and she would write me letters about a funny joke she'd read or describe a day on the beach so vividly that I could place myself there in my head. As much as I felt like a pussy for even admitting it to myself, her words were a balm to some of the more recent scars on my soul, like having wandered in the desert for 4 days with no water only to suddenly crest a dune and be treated to the most beautiful lush, secluded oasis. You rebuff it at first, tell yourself it isn't real and that it doesn't matter, but after that first tentative sip, it's all you can think about. The girl's my fuckin kryptonite and she has no fucking idea. Typical, par for the course, fucked up relationships, Edward Masen style.

I clicked on her email to open it up, and was immediately treated to a cartoon of Elmer Fudd trying to shoot a turkey but ending up going home empty handed and eating a piece of bread for Thanksgiving. I dunno where the hell she found it, but the simple cartoon had me chuckling. Her message to me was shorter than usual, as she explained that she was shooting me an email while momentarily hiding out from kitchen duties. Her words immediately brought to mind how Esme must be in her element in the kitchen, with Alice enthusiastically trying to help out and the guys in the den watching the game. I wanted to be there, with a beer in hand, so much that it was a physical ache in my chest. I rubbed my sternum absent-mindedly and thought that I really needed to get home to see everyone after this tour; it'd been long enough and I was getting sappy. I turned my attention back to the email, in which she wished me a happy Thanksgiving and told me about her morning of watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade; complete with a detailed description of her favorite float and why it was the best over Alice's, Rosalie's, and Esme's picks. Such a dork, I thought to myself as I shook my head, unaware of the small smile I had. She promised to write again soon, and closed with her signature sign off of, "Be well and come home soon, Bella". Be well and come home soon. Such simple words but they never failed to comfort. Be well and come home soon. Well, I sure as shit was trying!

I quickly clicked on the reply button and thought for a minute about what I wanted to write, and had begun typing when Wilson trooped back in, telling me that the squad was gathering over by the Humvee and waiting for me. I wrapped up the short thought that I'd been able to get down and then sent the missive on its way, closed the laptop, checked my gear and my gun, and marched out with Wilson tailing behind. Time to strap up, lock it down, and survive another fucking night. As I climbed into my seat in the Humvee and we pulled out, I fingered the Saint Christopher necklace around my neck that Esme gave me, musing about the tactical points of the night ahead while flipping the warm metal disc between my fingers. I did this so often, and always before a mission, that the grooves of the medal were all but worn away. As we rounded the corner where my tent was, I shot a look in the approximate area of my laptop and thought to myself: Be well and come home soon. I pictured her beautiful and intelligent hazel green eyes looking at me, while her soothing voice in my head repeated those earnest words like a mantra, as if her will alone would keep me from harm and speed up my return. Mentally I repeated the affirmation that I always said to myself after reading her closing but never had the courage to type back in response: I'm working on it, babygirl. See you soon.

***A/N: Gah! He called her babygirl! And yes, that's a nod to a favorite show (and character) of mine. SOLDIERWARD IS HEERRREEEEEE! Finally. Finally finally. That guy was impatient to get the heck outta my head. But what's with the duplicity? Painfully formal in Bell's flashback, but very obviously (and somewhat deliciously if you are a bit more rough-around-the-edges inclined) informal and crass in his own POV. Which is he? What the heck is up with him? **

**As for our sweet Bella, I loved the mental image of her having fun with Esme in the kitchen, all the girls watching the Thanksgiving Parade together, and Rose holding her own while watching football with the guys. So, from my author's mind to you, hope you enjoyed our little Thanksgiving edition. Let me know what you thought! Tell me if you have theories about what the heck these crazies are all up to! Leave a review about my awesomely long chapters…basically, just leave a review please. Lol. Begging over. See y'all in the next one!**

**~Lovingly yours, Starryeyedauthor**


	13. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns all things Twilight; I just enjoy playing with her characters and pulling them out of their comfort zones. ;)**

Chapter 12

_Previously…_

_Edward's POV_

_As we rounded the corner where my tent was, I shot a look in the approximate area of my laptop and thought to myself: Be well and come home soon. I pictured her beautiful and intelligent hazel green eyes looking at me, while her soothing voice in my head repeated those earnest words like a mantra, as if her will alone would keep me from harm and speed up my return. Mentally I repeated the affirmation that I always said to myself after reading her closing but never had the courage to type back in response: I'm working on it, babygirl. See you soon. _

Bella's POV

Thanksgiving break had passed and us girls, along with Jasper and Emmett, were back in Santa Barbara. The girls were all gearing up for finals week(s) and then a long awaited Winter Break. The plan was for the Cullens and my Dad to come down to Santa Barbara for Christmas/New Years, and to have the first non-white, snow free Christmas in our joint family get-togethers history. Us girls had fun creating the annual family Christmas invites, dragging the boys to the beach and making a snowman out of sand. We decked him out in a Hawaiian shades and posed next to him in our holiday sweaters. They came out pretty well, though I do say so myself, and despite our impromptu photo shoot breaking out into a sand slinging fight with the boys in which all of us girls ended up getting manhandled and thrown into the ocean. We printed out the appropriate amount, one with directions and a map for our parents who were coming and a 'Happy Holidays from Our Family to Yours' version with just our sandman and traditional Christmas decorations carved in the sand around him. We got them in the mail and I even scanned one into my computer and sent it to Masen, hoping to make him smile with our silliness.

However, final prep waited for no one, and as such I along with my girls, soon were sucked into the vacuum of cramming and study sessions. I had just gotten home and it was early evening, with me having arrived home (i.e. escaped) from a grueling study session at school. Rose and Ali were already home when I arrived, and so I dumped my crap off in my room, dropping my study materials at my desk with disgust; my brain felt like mush and I was BEYOND done with learning about heart dysrhythmias and the electro-conduction system of the heart. I settled down at the kitchen table and joined the girls in eating homemade tacos for dinner—courtesy of Alice—when my phone buzzed. I checked it, and when I saw it was an email notification from Masen, I instantly smiled in response.

Without Smith to correspond with, but finding myself unwilling to just completely stop communication/gifts to his unit, Masen had stepped up and had started corresponding with me regularly the past couple of months. Obviously his communication with me was nothing like the friendship that Smith and I had cultivated, but it was welcome in its differences; it helped me feel like I wasn't simply replacing Gunny and that I was still making a difference, however small, in someone's life. While Smith always readily shared stories about his life and childhood, family and friends, Masen managed to tell me amusing stories from his childhood, and relate parts of his day that gave me only a sketchy outline of his past and present. I was unwillingly intrigued, as I found the challenge of finding ways to get him to open up somewhat exhilarating. It was like he was having me prove my willingness to know him, in a way, and it was simultaneously both the strangest and most fulfilling friendship I had with someone other than my immediate family/friend circle. He also always made sure to ask after my family and friends, and seemed to enjoy the anecdotes I sent him about our daily lives.

I opened my mail app on my phone, clicked on his letter, and started reading, my happy anticipation quickly taking a nosedive into confusion before bottoming out at mild panic. Oh. My. God. OhmygodohmygodohmyGOD! I dropped my cell on the table as if it were a snake about to bite me, the abrupt clatter effectively interrupting Rose and Ali's conversation and turning their eyes towards me. Ali immediately asked me what was wrong, grabbing my hand in concern, while Rose was her usual nosey self, grabbing my phone and starting to read. Her mildly annoyed face also quickly transitioned, a frown line appearing between her eyebrows as her look rearranged into one of contemplation and concern.

"Isabella," Rose read aloud, "thank you for your last message. Thanksgiving was rough for us out here and the cartoon you sent along with your retelling of your day helped bring the holiday spirit over here. I also can't write a long message as we're about to go out on patrol, but I have some (hopefully) good news. My unit is coming back stateside in about a week, now that our tour of duty is finally finished. We then have to go through two weeks of in-processing before they release us to travel home to our families. You've written to me so often of Santa Barbara and it sounds like an amazing place. I would really like to come to Santa Barbara around Christmas time and meet you. Before you freak out, I'm not trying to stalk you or anything, but I would…it's important to me to thank you in person for all you've done for both my unit, and me personally, and I would consider it an honor to see you in person. I have another guy in my unit flying to Santa Barbara to meet his family who are vacationing there over the Christmas holidays this year, so I was thinking of accompanying him. Please let me know if this is something you're open to, as the last thing I want to do is scare or concern you. So..yeah, um, I guess just let me know what you think. I don't know how to end this, so I'm just going to go with: I hope to hear from you soon."

Rose finished reading and a moment of silence descended as the three of us digested his words. "Who exactly is this guy again, Bells?" Alice asked me, the concern evident in her tone. Contrary to my friendship with Gunny, I had kept my correspondence with Masen, or "Medic" as I referred to him when I talked about him with Ali and Rose, pretty much to myself. Since his confiding in me was hard won, I had the feeling that Masen was a private man and that he wouldn't appreciate his information being spread around. "He's the Medic from Gunny's unit. He's really cool and funny, but I don't know how I feel about meeting him" I replied. It struck me as a bit odd, the idea of him coming out to meet me instead of spending the holidays with his family. Then again, he never really shared about a family so maybe he didn't have one? I was confused. Rose similarly looked lost in thought, though knowing her she was going to come down solidly on the side of caution and protecting me. Thank goodness the guys were at work at the Kitty, or else I had a feeling that the suggestion would be quickly dismissed altogether.

"Well," Ali said slowly, "we do know that Edward vouched for him, though I don't know if that helps all that much as we don't really know anything else about him." When I'd started corresponding with Masen and he'd told me the name of his unit, I had mentioned it in passing to Alice. As it turns out, her older brother Edward was on deployment with the same unit. She immediately sent him an email asking about the Medic in his unit, and Edward had replied in his normal, cryptic way: "He's a good guy underneath everything…I think. I trust him with my life, as much as I would trust myself anyway." Alice had a point, and while I may not know a lot about him, Edward had vouched for him. Edward always had a soft spot for the women in his family and women in general. He wouldn't vouch for a guy that he wouldn't feel safe letting around his own family, and that spoke volumes to me. With my hard won insights of Masen and Edward's stamp of approval, I found myself saying, "I think…I think I will meet him." Rose turned her eyes to me, and they were wide with surprise and immediate disapproval. "Uh-uh. No. You don't even know the guy! He could actually BE some creeper stalker person! Not happening. Dad would have a shit-fit if he knew." She exclaimed.

"I do know him though, kind of." I argued. "Plus, he refers to a guy in his unit coming to meet his family in SB over Christmas. That HAS to be Edward, which means that the whole Cullen family and us will already be there to welcome him home. My meeting with Medic will be supervised by everyone and I'll write to him that while I'm open to meeting, it will be only under my conditions and that I will walk away if I get the wrong vibe." The rest of the evening was spent bickering with Ali and Rose about it, weighing the pros and cons, and outright disagreeing with both Jas and Emmett. In the end, however, I was not dissuaded, and I wrote him back exactly what I had told the girls I would. The only reason I finally got everyone to get off my back about it was my repeated drilling home of the idea that both our families would already be in attendance for this meeting, and my Dad was a cop; if anything was going to go down, I had more than enough man power and back up on my side. Also, Ali sent off an email and Edward confirmed that he was the other person flying into SB the week before Christmas, so the rashness of my decision was quickly swallowed up by the anticipation of having Edward home again. Ali and Emmett were thrilled as were their parents, and us Swan's were all thrilled for them. Furthermore, and despite my emphatic denial to myself, upping my own personal excitement was the news that Edward was going to be spending awhile in Santa Barbara, crashing in the boy's apartment.

The remaining two weeks went by in a headache of study sessions, all-nighters, and finals; then the fun began. We confirmed the hotel reservations for the Cullens and our Dad, and decorated our two apartments for Christmas. Granted, the girl's apartment looked better (in my opinion), but we surprised the boys with some manly pine boughs for their mantle and a small Douglas Fir Christmas tree for their living room, complete with bartender ornaments (shot glasses, olives on toothpicks, etc.) for Jasper and construction ornaments (various tools) for Emmett in deference to his day job. We snuck in and set it all up for them one evening while they were both at work, with the boys returning the favor by having our favorite take-out delivered to our apartment already paid for one evening. From then on, we got even further into the spirit of the season, having Christmas movie nights and planning a Secret Santa Exchange for when our parents got into town. This morning was "M-day", as I'd taken to referring to it in my head. Our parents had gotten in last night and we'd had a lovely home cooked meal in the girls apartment, though it had been quite a squish.

I had also been very clear in my boundaries with Masen for this meeting. I had replied back to his email with a request for information on exactly what he expected from this meeting and how long he planned to be in town; it was the holidays and my family was here, I wasn't going to just drop everything because this man wanted to meet me. Furthermore, I was uncomfortable with the idea of him flying out of his way to come spend time to me when we hadn't met before. He replied back with haste, seeming to have anticipated my list of inquiries. He explained that he did want to see me, meet me, and thank me. He said that while he wasn't familiar with Santa Barbara, that his family lived up north and that after our meeting he would meet up with them, thereby making me a bit more comfortable since he didn't seem to be expecting me to lavish days of attention on him. He also stated that he'd like to meet for a lunch, or dinner if that was alright. I was a bit leery about this request because he intimated that he wanted it to be just the two of us. I told him that it was something I'd consider and that I would base my decision on our meeting and my feelings after it. He had agreed to that condition as well, and we had left things at that, except for the email I'd received two days ago confirming his flight details and thanking me again for my willingness to accommodate his request to meet me. I was so busy with family stuff I didn't really have a chance to craft a reply or stress about what to say. I dashed off a short reply, hit send, and then tried not to stress about it. But now, the day was here.

To make it even more stressful, I needed to swing by my school on my way to meet everyone at the airport for Edward's welcome home and to meet Masen. My professor had been impressed with my skills and grade, and she had asked me if I would be her student tutor for the next term along with an offer for a stellar recommendation letter. She was leaving town for Winter Break as well, and she could only meet with me today, of all days, for a brief run through of what my tutor duties would entail and to ensure we were on the same page. So this morning I'd woken up, did the usual get ready routine in the morning, along with enlisting Rose's and Ali's help to achieve a pretty yet mostly natural looking make-up look. Once I was received the green light from both of them aka "Knock em dead, gorgeous!", I went back to my rook to get dressed. As I put on my carefully selected semi-professional outfit of a gray knee length pencil skirt, pretty and comfortable suede gray pumps, and my light pink feminine blouse, I found myself thinking more about my airport meeting that my upcoming academic one. I was officially going to be meeting Masen, a man who intrigued me, engaged my mind, excelled at making me laugh, and had turned into a friend of sorts. After putting on a delicate necklace, I did one final mirror check before grabbing my things and rushing out the door, the butterflies in my stomach having absolutely nothing to do with my academic meeting. My question was, was I nervous because I was meeting Masen or because Edward was coming home?

***A/N: Oh my gosh, oh my GOSH, OMG! They're going to meet! IS she crazy? What on earth is he thinking/what is he going to say?! Go Bells for rocking her classes! Go Masen for manning up (at least a little) and asking Bella's permission to continue their interaction. But my oh my, I'm dying to know how this will go! GAH! AS always, my wonderful reader loves, let me know what you think? What SHOULD Edward say to her? What could he possibly say for his looonnnngggg standing lie by omission? How will Bell's girls, Ali and Rose, react once they learn that the Medic/Masen is actually Edward? How will both families react to the knowledge that closed off Edward opened up enough to even HAVE a friend? Oohh, it's just so fun to think about. Drama, drama, ..they're a bunch of drama mama's, let me tell you. Anywho! As usual, here's my little blurb about wanting to hear your opinion, insights, thoughts, feedback, REVIEWS…y'all know the drill. Take a second to show our little story some love! As always, I'll see y'all in the next chapter!**

**~Lovingly yours, Starryeyedauthor**


	14. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns all things Twilight; I just enjoy playing with her characters and pulling them out of their comfort zones. ;)**

Chapter 13

_Previously…_

_Bella's POV_

_As I put on my carefully selected semi-professional outfit of a gray knee length pencil skirt, pretty and comfortable suede gray pumps, and my light pink feminine blouse, I found myself thinking more about my airport meeting that my upcoming academic one. I was officially going to be meeting Masen, a man who intrigued me, engaged my mind, excelled at making me laugh, and had turned into a friend of sorts. After putting on a delicate necklace, I did one final mirror check before grabbing my things and rushing out the door, the butterflies in my stomach having absolutely nothing to do with my academic meeting. My question was, was I nervous because I was meeting Masen or because Edward was coming home?_

Edward Masen's POV

As I sat in the USO lounge in LAX (Los Angeles Airport, CA) nursing the solitary beer I was allowing myself while waiting for my connecting flight to Santa Barbara, I mused on what had led me here. First and perhaps most importantly, I felt this driving need to see my adoptive family and the Swans. This was something I'd become accustomed to over the past couple months, but the need itself was relatively new. I took another chug of my beer, as I thought back…

*Flashback*

"_MOM, just stop already, okay?!", my teenage self grouched, as I looked down into the face of the beautiful, delicate Elizabeth Masen. Her green eyes crinkled around the edges with the affectionate smile that she shone up at me from her classically elegant face and she reached up in yet another attempt to tame my wild copper hair that matched hers. I had hit a growth spurt this past year, and even though I was still a teenager at 16, I had my mother in height by a good 5 inches…and counting. I took a breath in, and tried again, this time without the tone. "It's never going to lay straight Mom, you KNOW that. Just let it do its thing. You need to get to your seat anyway, I'm about to go on." I rested my hands on her shoulders and gave her a little squeeze, sticking my tongue out at her like a kid before giving her a wink. "You don't want to miss a moment of my 'impeccably moving performance', do you?" _

"_Oh Lordy, I knew you were going to bring that up!" She snickered, something not a lot of women could pull off but something she did adorably (or so my Dad told her every time I'd ever heard it). "Just because someone from the local paper came to your recital and wrote a rave review doesn't mean that you're Mozart, young man, or that you're getting out of taking out the trash that I know for a fact is still in my kitchen; despite me vividly remembering to tell you to take it out before school this morning." Just then, I heard my name being called and I moved to release Mom's shoulders. She reached up once again, her slender, soft and cool hands framing my face. "My beautiful boy," she said, almost to herself. She gave me yet another smile full of maternal warmth and whispered up at me, "Knock'em dead, love." She released me and we each went our separate ways. As I walked out onto the stage of our local community theater, I felt the familiar nerves pop up. I did my formal bow to the audience, feeling awkward and gawky in my tux that was almost too small for my lanky frame. Gosh, but I hated playing for an audience. My mother had started me in lessons when I was a young boy, and before long I surpassed what she could teach me. She then found a colleague, through the university that she taught at, who agreed to hear me. After I'd played for her, Mrs. Prenot had immediately taken me under her wing and I'd excelled under her tutelage. Fast forward to now, and I was the youngest soloist being featured in the college's Winter Presentation of Music; and yes, being 16 and playing with people about 4 years older than me intimidated the hell out of me. I straightened from my bow, turned smartly, and walked over to the grand piano dominating the stage space. As I took a seat, I couldn't help but look across the piano to the last two seats in the front row directly across from me. I saw my Mom with her unmistakable look of pride and I watched as my father hurried into the seat next to her, arriving just in time. She shook her finger at him before he gave her his customary kiss hello, and slide his arm around her shoulders. They turned toward the staged as the unit they were, and my dad shot me a thumbs up. I caught myself breaking the solemnity of the moment with the small smile their usual antics brought to my mouth. I then took a deep breath, put my fingers to the keys, and played, letting the music sweep me up and out of myself until I felt the absolute peace that I derived from playing._

_After my performance, which closed the annual Winter Presentation this year, I changed into my street clothes backstage. I exchanged fist bumps with some of the other guy performers in the dressing room, and was about to leave when Zeke stopped me. Zeke was my idol, since he was in the music program but was also the star quarterback for the college's football team. On top of all that, he was genuinely a good guy and took time to talk with everyone, help people out when they needed it, and all that included hanging out with me when I came to practice at the College that first couple times and no one talked to me. After telling me I did well, Zeke said the thing that any 16 boy would love to hear. He invited me to an afterparty/hang out at his family's house. I couldn't believe it. Zeke invited ME to a party, and there was bound to be hot college girls there! I embarrassed myself a little with how quickly I replied, stutter and all, my 'Yeah!' just a little too enthusiastic to be considered cool. We exchanged info and I told him I'd clear it with my parents and shoot him a text. As I walked out the back stage door, seeing my parents huddled in their winter coats to ward off the Chicago winter chill and watching as my Dad fished out his car keys and chucked them at me, I caught the keys in my hand and felt on top of the world. _

_*End Flashback*_

How quickly things can change, I mused bitterly to myself, the burn of guilt and shame searing me even after all these years. My Dad had been teaching me how to drive and it would be the first time I was driving with both parents in the car. On the way home, I'd told them about Zeke's invitation and had inadvertently started a fight. My (sane) parents were worried about a 16 year old boy going to a college party, and I was vehemently against missing it. During the argument, things got heated as I argued and pushed for my way like the child I still was in so many ways. With my attention elsewhere, I'd accidentally sped up and as I went around a corner, I hit a patch of black ice on the road. I can still remember the sickening spinning and the helplessness of the wheel not responding, even with my dad reaching over the center console to try to get me to turn into the spin instead against it as my inexperience had me doing. My Dad had been stronger than me and wrestled the steering wheel from my frozen in fear, death grip and managed to bring us to a halt. After the sudden spinning, I remember it being so suddenly quiet and still, as if the world was holding its breath in the hush. I look across at my Dad, stammering out apologies and feeling his hand come down warm and reassuring on my shoulder as he asked if my mother was alright. I looked in the rearview mirror, my panic renewing. She was so small, what if she hit her head…when I made eye contact with her through the mirror and watched her reply she was fine, my eyes watered up in relief. Everyone was ok. Through my watery vision, I still looked at her through the mirror as she reached forward to put her hand on top of my Dad's on my shoulder, reassuring me. And I saw, as she and my father couldn't, the watery, squiggly glaring headlights of the big rig come around the corner right before it barreled into us.

My parents died that night because of my stupidity, my arrogance, my lack of control, and my inability to protect them by driving safe. To further compound my guilt, my parents hadn't been yelling at me like I deserved, but they'd tried to comforting me and strengthening me as they always had. I remember waking up in the hospital, frantic for that familiar touch, and being told by a tall blonde-haired man that I vaguely recalled from my childhood that I would never feel that touch again. My father and Carlisle Cullen had been friends since med school, the best of mates even when we lived half a country away from them. Both of my parents didn't have families, so my dad had written Carlisle into their will as my guardian in case anything happened to my parents. Yeah, I said will, and no my parents weren't paranoid. My father was the last living Masen, born from a dynasty of powerful business men, and despite my father not choosing to go into business like his forefathers, he did still inherit a stupid sum of money and property from them. Yup, you guessed it. I'm loaded. Surprised? Most people are. Usually when you have enough money to make it to the top twenty-five of Forbes' List, most people don't expect you to be a college dropout who joined the military to find an outlet for your anger issues.

I went to take another swig from my beer only to realize I'd drained it during my trip down my fucked up memory lane and was clutching the brown bottle tight enough to have a sizable crack start down its side. "Calm down, moron," I muttered to myself under my breath, "get your shit together already. You're acting like a fucking little girl." I blew out my next exhale as I watched my fingers relax on the bottle until I left it standing on the bar. It looked lonely. Fuck this. "Gimme another", I shot at the bartender who had been trying way too hard to get me to notice her and her obviously fake double D's until I shot her down. Now, she let out an affronted huff, as if me asking her to do her job was equal to me asking her to suck my dick in public. Whatever. As the cool new bottle hit my palm, I took a solid chug before figuring I might as well finish my sad little reminisce.

After I was released from the hospital, Carlisle told me that I'd be going home with him to some place called Forks. Gone was the teen that had been the apple of my parent's eyes and their greatest pride, in his place a sullen, angry and lost boy. I promptly treated Carlisle to the silent treatment the whole way to my new "home", only speaking when necessary. I treated my time with the Cullens as a prison sentence. I acted out, stole things, broke their trust over and over again, until they granted my wish to be sent away to school. I couldn't take their kindness, couldn't see how close their family was without being reminded of all I'd lost. I got to military school and they kicked my ass. The regime was exactly what I needed, a set schedule of expectations and monotony that I could lose myself in. I rushed through my classes, graduating at 17. I then went "home" to the Cullens for that summer before going to College, holding myself carefully apart from them and treating them only with icy politeness. College was where shit spiraled out of control. I'd never dealt with my parent's deaths fully and I became self-destructive, fucking almost anything female that moved (and let me) to get out of my head, drinking until I blacked out, doing what drugs I could find to escape into a high that always led to a worse low when I was thrust mentally kicking and screaming back into my pathetic reality. I was supposed to get my inheritance at 18, but with all of my destructive behavior and my eventual arrest and expulsion from college, Carlisle got the courts to hold my inheritance in trust until I was 24.

I'll never forget our conversation on the way home from the airport. I'd flown in, thinking I was tough shit and that College could go fuck itself for all I cared. I was only staying long enough to collect my inheritance from Carlisle, who was the executor of my father's will, and then blowing out of the fucking hick town of Forks, Washington. I had essentially unlimited funding and a world full of destruction to wreak on myself. About halfway home from the airport, Carlisle pulled over and informed me that he'd blocked me from my inheritance for another 5 years. As he told me this, he reached out and put his hand on my shoulder to try and get across his concern, I assume. I went ballistic. I had a strict no touching policy for the Cullens, and Carlisle inadvertently touched me just like my father used to. Still high from what I'd snorted in the airplane bathroom, I poured all of my self-loathing and revulsion out on him after ripping his hand from my shoulder and storming out of the car. I belittled him, his family, his life, his choices…I called him every single loathsome thing I felt about myself. By the end of it, I was sobbing like a child. Carlisle stood there and took it. Carlisle was a man much like my father, and he knew even when I didn't that I was unable to deal with my own pain so I was projecting it all over him like a dick. He gave me a choice. Right there, out in the snow on the side of the highway, a couple feet from the 'Welcome to Forks!' sign. He told me he refused to bring me home to the family like I was. Even after all the shit I'd dumped on him, he didn't say 'my' family, he said 'the family' like I was still a vital part of something that I'd been bucking ever since I'd woken up in the godforsaken hospital. He told me that I could take the $20,000 he'd wire into my account and go snort, drink, and fuck myself to death. He told me that he hated that option and that I'd be wasting my second chance at life. I didn't give a fuck. I was about to agree and get the hell out and away, it didn't matter where just as long as it was away from this man that looked at me as if he wanted to take all of my pain away and into himself. I opened my mouth but before I could form words Carlisle said, "Your parents would be so disappointed in you, Edward Masen. The man you're becoming wouldn't even be able to meet your Mother's eyes in shame and your Father would want to beat the shit out of you until you came to your senses, like I want to."

I remember staring at him in utter shock. We never talked about my parents. I refused, a very obvious sign of my blatant inability to cope. I opened my mouth to spew some more bullshit and found I couldn't speak. What he said cut me to the bone, and I felt like I was figuratively once again bleeding in the snow on the side of a fucking highway. Carlisle pressed his advantage and gave me the other of my two options, saying, "Or. You could agree to be dropped off at a rehab facility I know where you can detox and we can work on fashioning you into the man your parents raised you to be. You choose, son." Kneeling there in the snow, I made the only decision that would let me be able to finally look in the mirror again and see my father's eyes and mother's hair in my reflection without feeling like I wanted to die. Suddenly feeling centuries old, I got to my feet, looked Carlisle in the eye, and croaked out four words: "Help me fix myself".

After rehab (during which Esme and Carlisle let Emmett and Alice think I was still away at College) and my subsequent massive psych overhaul from a team of shrinks that I detested, I entered the world again, sober and without an anchor. Craving the feeling of belonging from my year of military school, I walked from the rehab center to the nearest enlistment office and enlisted in the Army. Best decision of my life, though I'm pretty sure I disappointed Carlisle and Esme with that one. I became a medic and a leader, and found a way to fashion myself into a man that I could respect even if I still didn't like myself more than half the time. While the Army and being enlisted definitely finished rubbed off my rich boy shine and taking sand paper to my smooth edges, I took pride in my work and in my ability to help lead my men; my manners and language taking a hit didn't really phase me one way or another.

However, this deployment, I'd worked on touching. Which sounds pathetic even when I think about it, but not only did I have to work at it, I had to work at it hard; my own personal reenactment of Sisyphus and his damn massive boulder. I'd let friends clap me on the back or shoulder, exchanged a couple hugs with female comrades, and been a shoulder for my friends to cry on when they needed it. I still fought revulsion at first with physical contact, but my shrink kept reminded me about learned behaviors and my need to stop letting my issues with touching warp me. I then, uncouthly as Esme would say, and as crassly as possible told my shrink that I didn't have any problem with touching when it was girls bouncing on or sucking my dick. He reiterated that I needed to limit my excesses (what he called my urges to drink and fuck 'excessively' to overcompensate for my need to do blow) so that they are outlets but not emotional crutches. Blah blah blah bullshit. The guy's name was Alvin, but I called him Alfred because he reminded me of Michael Gough's character in Batman & Robin: elderly, calm, and with the patience of Job. Despite my tendency to give him shit, Alfred was good and after years of seeing him, he was one of the few people I trusted completely…but damn that man was a complete buzz kill and impossible to get a rise out of.

Anyway, I missed the family. Despite all of my walls and everything I'd put them through, the Cullens remained. Even if I didn't and don't think I ever could love them quite like I loved my parents, I respected them immensely. I was determined to show them the progress I'd made. And, if I was being honest with myself, I was determined to re-meet this Ms. Isabella Cullen who had become my new drug of choice with her humor and character that brought a glimmer of something…more into my carefully structured life. I wasn't sure what the more was, but damned if I wasn't going to find out. I finally heard my flight being called over the overhead, so I threw a couple dollars down on the bar—with an extra $20 tip because I'd been a bit of a dick to Ms. Double D behind the bar—and walked over to my gate. After the stupid wait in line and check in, they bumped me to first class for my "service". This was a bit of a sore-spot for me, because while yes I was inadvertently protecting them through my actions, I joined the military for selfish reasons, and I'd stayed in because the ability to protect filled my need to protect those around me since I'd been unable to…whatever. Anyway, they didn't need to deal with my bullshit so I thanked them (politely even), and sat in my seat. As everyone else filed in down the rows, I pulled out my cell and pulled up the last email from Isabella. It contained only two lines, with the first being confirmation that she read my flight info and the second line said merely: Travel safe, be well, and see you soon. I reread the line for the tenth time, before pulling up a reply email and typing back just a few words.

Isabella,

I'm working on it. See you soon.

Masen

I hit send as the flight attendants told everyone to turn off their phones. I put in my headphones, turned on some music, and as the plane's engines roared to life, I mentally added the one word that the email was missing from my mantra: "I'm working on it, babygirl. See you soon." The plane took off with the soldier dressed in fatigues in seat 2B seemingly grinning at absolutely nothing and setting the hearts of the flight attendants to thumping.

***A/N: *sniffles* Okay y'all, you still with me? Breathe everyone (including me). Whoo-sahh. Why would he do this to us?! As if Edward didn't have a strong enough following already with his rugged soldier-ness, let's throw in the mother of all wounded/lost boy syndromes and how he's fighting to overcome, persevere, and continue to grow from his rock bottom. My darn heart, y'all. Family is everything and the loss of one so devastating…Our Edward glossed over much of it, but hopefully that pang in your heart for him hit you just right. Edward wouldn't be this story's Edward without his life changing angst. **

**Next chapter is going to be The Showdown. How is everyone going to react? How is Bells going to take it? How is Edward going to explain without looking like a manipulative arse?! Is Bells going to honor his request for a just the two of them lunch/dinner? Would you, dear readers? Let me know. Theories, opinions, reviews, tons of love…y'all are old hats at this and know the gist by now. ;)**

**This is the last chapter in my massive 5 chapter upload. Yes, I know that I'm horribly slow at updating. Yes, I KNOW it is beyond frustrating, and as a fellow reader it drives me crazy when authors have no upload schedule. BUT! I am in the last grueling months of nursing school and I don't want to make promises to y'all that I can't keep. Therefore, I will continue to update when I can. It might be months and then a massive upload, it might be a chapter a month, etc. However, I promise I'm working on it and thinking of y'all; I sneak away to Dear Soldier-land when I can. As always, thank you for your interest, feedback, and your willingness to follow the story. It truly thrills and fulfills me. So, with that, I will see y'all in the next chapter!**

**~Lovingly yours, Starryeyedauthor**


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